


Apparently, I'm your son

by ratonzita



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Completed, Feels, M/M, Magical stiles, Smut, Spark Stiles, Stiles might as well be a Disney princess, at times cheesy, consent always people, happy ending i swear, hurt a while, slow build but not really but really, sterek 5ever, stiles is the new hot guy in town, talia and laura hale alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 75,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratonzita/pseuds/ratonzita
Summary: Stiles grew all his life thinking his father was either dead or never existed. It took two lives to realize he was a real man living in Beacon Hills as the actual sheriff. This is the story of how he meets his father, gets to know new people, falls in love, and finds his true calling and home.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Cora Hale/Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Stiles Stilinski/Original Character(s), Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 15
Kudos: 376





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I hope you like this story. I waited until I finished it to posted it completely. (I get desperate waiting for others to publish, he.) Sorry not sorry for the full 18 chapters. Happy reading!

# 1

Stiles was patiently waiting for the first time in his life. Bitterly waiting for the cruiser to appear, to get home already. What on earth would keep a sheriff almost a full day out working? He scoffed at his question stopping momentarily his drumming fingers: plenty of disasters could be happening. After all, he knew Lady Misfortune closely for two reasons. Two things he’d been obsessing time and time again throughout his whole life. His mother and Rapha.

Things had never added up between those two. His mother and the man who refused to be called father. Yet neither ever spoke of his actual father. Then his mom died when he was nine. She slowly faded away and ended up blaming her own son for her disease.

There were two moments he would never forget from her last days in the hospital: the night her hand stopped grabbing his and when she asked him for Noah. The first one still gave him night terrors. The second one Rapha had shrugged it off saying it was an old joke between them that he would explain when he was older and interested in college. It didn’t ease the gnawing curiosity inside of him, but at least it helped him reign it in.

Although he wracked his brain about her death time and time again, he had another brain wracking dilemma staring him in the face: Rapha’s whole persona. He’d tried to always be there for him, though he didn’t have the greatest parenting skills—and, yes, that included his desire to force him into learning self-defense and how to use both a gun and a knife.

Still, Stiles was painfully aware he made an effort with the long trips and banking hours. He appreciated it more now that Lady Misfortune had her way again and removed Rapha from his life a month ago in a stupid bank robbery. At least he finally understood that _old joke_.

His mother and Rapha’s deaths summed up why he was on a quest, waiting as his life depended on it, recalling every evasive answer his mother gave and every piece of advice with the man who never became his stepfather because he was his uncle.

Finally, the car appeared.

Stiles didn’t—couldn’t wait any longer. He stepped out of his beloved blue jeep as the sheriff, unaware, copied his actions. He crossed the street quickly, surprising the older man. Stiles cleared his voice. His palms were sweating, his fingers twitched.

“Sheriff Stilinski?” The man nodded, eyeing him and the street, looking out for any sort of trouble with a hand on his belt, over the gun. “ _Noah_ Stilinski?”

“Yes. Are you okay, son? Is there a problem?” he asked frowning.

Stiles giggled a bit hysterically. Nerves invaded his voice. “That’s just it, Noah.” He gulped down and closed his fists. “Apparently I’m your son.” The sheriff didn’t say a word. As a matter of fact, he seemed unable to process the information. “Like biological? You provided the DNA, the sperm, to my little, skinny self, or so said the letter.”

The sheriff shook his head. “That’s impossible. I’ve never donated any. I don’t have a wife. And the last time I even had s- was like-”

“Seventeen years ago?” The man’s eyes almost popped out of his face. “Yeah. That’s my age.”

The sheriff brushed a hand against his light hair. An epiphany crossed his face. “C-Claudia?”

Stiles nodded, balancing himself from tiptoes to talons and scratching the back of his neck anxiously. The man deflated against the cruiser. He was lost inside his head; question after question racing as if a terrible evil were upon their tails. Then Stiles’ stomach growled. The sheriff looked up sharply, aware again of his surroundings.

“I’m sorry. We should go inside and talk. I’m going to need the whole story,” he said in his sheriff's voice. When the boy looked back to his car thinking it over, he followed his eyes and saw a jeep he thought he would never see again. “We can order pizza.”

Stiles gulped and nodded. If anybody from New York could see him now, they wouldn’t recognize him with that lack of words or sudden obedience. It was blasphemy to turn down pizza. And it would be idiotic to turn the offer when it could involve an explanation for both of them.

Once they were inside, Stiles allowed himself to actually look at the man who was his father. His real father. The man was in his late forties with light brown hair and pale eyes. He walked tiredly but always conscious of the space around him. Stiles smiled, recognizing some of Rapha’s attributes in the man in front of him. After all, they were brothers. He frowned. This was a policeman, so naturally, he would act like that, but Rapha was just a banker. Why on earth would he be so on edge?

“Would you like something to drink? I’m afraid I only have water to offer, as you’re underage and I can’t give you alcohol,” he said from what Stiles supposed was the kitchen.

“Water’s fine, Noah.”

The name sounded weird on his lips. It didn’t feel right. It caused an itch to spread beneath his skin. There was one other name he wanted to try. He shook himself. There would be a moment for that if it all turned out okay.

The living room looked comfy. Three couches, a TV, some DVDs, and a small table. The sheriff returned with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He gave one filled with cold water to Stiles and poured himself two fingers, swallowing them fast before refilling it. He let himself fall on the single couch—probably his favorite spot to watch TV. Stiles followed the example by taking a seat on the larger one.

The sheriff looked up when he heard the cushion squealing. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m probably making an awful impression, aren’t I?”

“You’re not doing bad. Believe me.” He looked up. Stiles squirmed in his seat and looked away. “I went into some fugue state when I found out, and when I came back to myself I kinda had destroyed some stuff in my old place. And by some, I actually mean a lot. The neighbors even called the police.”

The sheriff shook his head slowly and swallowed with difficulty. “So… how- how is she? Claudia?”

Stiles inhaled sharply, feeling cold all over again. This man didn’t know anything. “She died. Seven years ago.”

The man emptied his drink again but didn’t pour more. He scrubbed his face. “What happened?” he asked through his hands.

“Frontotemporal dementia.” The sheriff looked up at him confused. “A brain thing. Slow.” Stiles twirled his glass, recalling memories. “She asked for you. But I had no idea who you were and when I asked Rapha-”

“Her… husband?” He asked dreading both a negative and a positive answer. It could just be a name coincidence.

“No,” Stiles frowned. “Your brother.”

The sheriff sighed, massaging his neck. “So, that’s where he went. With her. To wherever you guys lived.”

“New York. He’s dead too: bank robbery gone wrong. A month ago.” Stiles rubbed his arms. “Didn’t even suffer: bullet straight to the head.” The sheriff looked at him with a question in his eyes. How could anyone tell that to a kid? “I saw the report. Hacked into the system.” He shrugged it off.

The sheriff was about to protest, to say something about the law, but decided against it. He just met the kid, which led to… He groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s your name again?” This was too much.

“Oh, right.” Stiles straightened up, glad for the change in topic. “I should have said that from the start. And I didn’t. Sorry about that. I’m Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

“That’s not your actual name.”

“Last name, yeah. First name, well… that’s a bit unpronounceable. Only mom could. I have no idea why she would pick _that_ if-”

“Mieczyslaw.” Stiles stopped mid-rant. The sheriff had pronounced it perfectly and was smiling. A sad, small smile, full of love and nostalgia. “It was your mother’s father's name.” They stayed silent for a little while after that. Stiles started to fidget, unsure of what to do or say next as Noah collected his thoughts and memories. “You said you found out by a letter?”

Stiles almost sighed, relieved. They were going somewhere now. “Yeah. It was old. Mom wrote it when she was pregnant, according to the date.” The sheriff looked thoughtful. Maybe even doubted this whole paternity thing. “We could take a DNA test if you don’t believe me, or well her. I also have it with me, if you’d like to read it, see for yourself?”

“I believe you, but I’d still like that. How did you come upon it? With both of them, uh-”

“He texted me. When shit started to get real at the bank. He said that if anything happened to him, I had to look into a security vault in Central Station. I did, and, well. Here we are.” He licked his lips and tried to smile. It probably looked creepy. Now came the hard part, well slightly harder than the rest. “Speaking of which,” he scratched his cheek, “I- could I- maybe- if it’s not a problem, crash here?” The sheriff looked surprised like he hadn’t considered it. Stiles carried on babbling. “It’s fine if you can’t. But it would only be necessary for a couple of months. I can get my own place at eighteen, but the social worker said I couldn’t be by myself now. And when she asked, I had already read the letter, so I told her I would stay with my dad. That you guys were only separated. And that I visited often, so it would be okay. She believed me, of course. But-”

“Stiles,” Noah stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. There were tears in his eyes full of genuine honesty. “You are my son. I just know so. You can stay as long as you want, okay, kiddo?” He nodded gratefully. The doorbell rang. The sheriff straightened up and coughed a couple of times. “That should be the pizza.”

While he went to get it, Stiles fell back on the couch, finally drinking his water. He had a place to stay for now and his father seemed like a cool guy. He didn’t even doubt the paternity. He bit his lip thoughtfully. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but he knew all too well that people didn’t exactly enjoy it when he started rambling question after question, phrase after phrase. Not even Rapha had liked it. Only his mother had been able to follow his racing mouth and mind—and well, she was dead What if the sheriff hated it too? It was his whole self: 147 pounds of sarcasm, inexistent mouth-filter, geeky hobbies, and self-defense.

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his head. “You okay there?”

“Yeah… yeah. I just. I have a lot of questions, since forever and the beginnings of dawn, and-” He bit his lip insecure. “I don’t know if you’re okay with it. I don’t know anything,” he frowned frustrated.

“That makes two of us.” He put the pizza on the table and turned to him. “How about we share stories? I’d really like for us to get along and know each other.”

Stiles smiled, twisting his plaid. “That actually sounds good.” The sheriff then opened the box, inviting him to dig in, but before Stiles could take a bite, he had to get his worries off his chest, at least some. “So, I should warn you? I can be a bit intense sometimes. I have ADHD and I usually jump from one thing to another with no logic whatsoever, well no logic to other people. It makes perfect sense to me. I know from experience that nobody really enjoys me talking a mile per hour.” He took a bite to stop himself from rambling any further.

Noah swallowed. “You seem to be doing fine.”

“Yeah, I’m actually trying not to smother you so I won’t scare you away or make you dislike me or something. Rapha always told me I was a troublemaker,” he grumbled.

“Stiles,” Noah waited until he was looking him in the eye. “You won’t be able to get rid of me now that I know you exist. I can handle intense and troublemakers. Bring it on, kiddo: I’m a policeman, don’t forget that. I’ll match you step by step.”

Stiles practically glowed with joy. “Good. Because you’re not getting rid of me either. I want to go to the hospital and get you all checked out so I know you’re completely healthy and not bailing on me because of a bug or something silly like that.”

Noah nodded. “Sounds fair to me. Also, school. You should be in the middle of your senior year, right?”

“Yeah, I have all my papers and important stuff in the jeep.”

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, simply appreciating the company, the idea of not being alone anymore.

Noah cleared his throat. “Listen, I don’t know what you like, or what to even do with a teenager of my own for that matter, but if you need anything, and I mean literally anything, just tell me and I’ll do my best, okay?”

Stiles shook his head. “You don’t have to. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it since mom died and Rapha had to work double.”

Noah gave him a stern, serious look that had all the warmth Rapha’s on some level had lacked. “How about we take care of each other. I also want you healthy and happy. Safe. I might even get overprotective. I’m the sheriff and you’re my kid,” he smirked liking the idea. “I’ll arrest people for you.”

Stiles blushed, having forgotten what was actually to be cared for. Don’t get him wrong. Rapha cared, but there was always a distance enforced by the man. Stiles may have acted out on purpose because of it. He nodded.

“Good. Now that that’s settled.” Noah made a fleeting gesture with his pizza hand. Stiles smothered a smile: he did that too. “Is there anything you can’t go to sleep with tonight?”

Stiles nodded finishing off his piece. “Why did you never come looking for her?”

He sighed. “I tried, but I was still fresh out from the Academy. There weren’t many favors I could pull. And she was a clever woman.” He smiled lovingly, making him smile in return. “She never used her name. Go figure she was using mine. I would have never thought of looking for her under that one.”

“Do you know why she left? The letter didn’t say much about that.” Just his mom’s unearthly love for this man and a tender introduction that was proving itself true.

He shook his head and got a faraway look. “We were having some trouble. Nothing between us exactly, but with our families. That’s a whole other story I’ll tell you tomorrow. I was planning to propose when one day I came home and she was no longer here, neither was her stuff.”

Stiles nodded cleaning imaginary tears. That was a dead end then. “How about Rapha?”

He smiled lopsidedly. “Now, that one. He was always on his own. Kept his distance from everybody. I was used to not see him for months, so I didn’t exactly look for him. Besides he always kept me posted on his whereabouts. Even when his postcards got fewer until I received them only once a year. He was always fine. If he were in real trouble, I like to think he’d actually call me. But, well. He never was, I guess.” Another dead end then. Before Stiles could pose another question, he yawned. “You look tired. How long were you waiting outside?”

“Almost all day? I didn’t want to miss you somehow.” He worried his lower lip, suppressing another yawn.

Noah nodded, understanding. He would have done the same thing. “Let’s call it a day then. Get some sleep.”

“But I still want to talk.”

“And we will, kiddo. We have all the time in the world. Come on.” He patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll show you to your room?” Stiles beamed at the sound of that. “We can get some stuff tomorrow to make it homier?” Stiles nodded. “And do the hospital and arrange your school transfer. Then I can show you around while we keep talking.”

“I’d like that.” They stopped at the door frame, _his_ door frame. The room was really simple: bare walls, a bed, two night tables, and a closet.

“Okay, then. Room’s all yours.” He seemed like he would go for a hug but then decided against it. “Good night, Stiles.”

Stiles was a bit disappointed, but it was probably for the best. They were just knowing each other and trust was yet building. They nodded at each other. “Good night, Noah. It’s been amazingly surreal meeting you.”

He received a shy smile before his father—and wasn’t that just incredible and awesome—walked down the hall towards his own room.

For years, he’d had theory after theory about his father. His mom indulged in some heroic ones when he was younger but, after she was gone, his theories got darker. He was glad those were wrong. And now, he could figure out who his dad is in person.

Stiles looked back toward his new room. Yeah, a couple of hours and he would have his usual mess. He smiled, as happy as he’d been in a while. He wasn’t alone against the world. Maybe Lady Misfortune didn’t hate him, after all. Maybe it was all part of Fate’s plan.

*

Stiles didn’t usually wake up early, but his excitement for the coming day was far too great to sleep any longer. He walked down and found Noah brewing some coffee.

“Morning, kiddo,” he smiled, still amazed by the younger’s presence and existence. He’d thought he’d never actually have a chance of having the family he always pictured with the love of his life. But there he was. Their offspring.

“Morning. Can I have some?” He nibbled his lower lip. Noah figured it was a nervous tick or plain habit, as well as the never-stopping finger drums.

“Sure. Does it affect your ADHD? You have meds for that, right?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t drink it, but on mornings I’m usually a zombie. Today is like a miracle of some sort. But I really really like the taste. Just a cup doesn’t mess me up too much. I think my body metabolizes it fast enough not to get me too energetic. I take a pill daily. Though I may, from time to time, take more than I should. Both the coffee and the meds. You’ll be able to know right away. But I just do it when I have big tests or important papers to do.”

Noah smiled nodding. There was the talking rapidly he had been warned about and he was proud to say he followed the monologue just fine. “Try not to abuse it, okay? There is milk and sugar in there if you want.”

Stiles saluted. “Will do, captain. Or well, won’t do, you get the idea. Thanks, but no thanks. I like it black like the darkest pits of hell. What’s for breakfast?”

The sheriff chuckled. “Well, I don’t really cook. So I was thinking Betty’s diner for pancakes or whatever you’d like.”

“Pancakes are okay. I love pancakes. I love food in general. Curly fries are my favorite, FYI. I know how to cook too, at least the basics. My skills stop at pasta. Maybe I could do that? For both of us?”

“If you want to.” Stiles nodded effusively. “Then it’s settled. I was thinking of taking the cruiser.”

“Yes. Yeah. That’s a good idea. I’ve never been on a cruiser before and it’s not like I know where to go. Doesn’t matter if you’re my dad, nobody but me drives my jeep.” He pointed out seriously.

Noah smiled. “I figured. It was your mother’s.” Stiles nodded. “She used to drive it while she lived here.”

“We couldn’t use it much in New York, but she taught me the basics of driving and how to take care of her baby when I was still a kid.”

“And now it is your baby.”

“Pretty much. Yeah.” He cleared his voice to disperse his wobbly insides. “Betty’s diner then?”

“Let’s fill our engines.”

They walked outside and locked the door. Stiles went to the jeep to get out his transfer papers and other important documents, then he got in the cruiser where Noah waited.

“Do you have a plan for today? Or we’re just making it as we go? Go to what’s close and that?”

“After breakfast, we’ll head for the hospital, then school. Shopping is necessary some time of the day. And I should introduce you to my family.”

“I’m sensing a but there.”

“There is a but. We’re here.”

Stiles turned around startled. “Shit! I was going to pay attention to the way.”

“Language, Stiles.”

“Sorry,” he smiled timidly. No one had ever reprimanded him for that. With his mom, he was too young for it, even if he knew the words. With her gone, he rediscovered them as a shield, words in general. Rapha had found it useless to try and correct him.

“It’s not very far from the house.” Noah shrugged turning off the car, unaware he had made a life-changing comment. They walked inside the diner and chose a booth with a great view of the street. From there Stiles could watch the pedestrians and the woods. That was probably the thing he liked most of Beacon Hills so far. The woods.

“So, the but?”

Noah sighed. “They’re my adopted family. Our parents died when we were fourteen, but, instead of going into the foster system, the Argents took us in.”

A blonde bombshell approached them. “Hi, sheriff. Who’s this sweetie here? Another criminal waiting to be fixed?”

“Erica,” he smiled with a special tingle in his eyes. “This is my son, Stiles.”

She gasped not expecting that for an answer. “Oh, my god, are you serious? Wait, you are. Oh, my god. And he _looks_ like you. Really.” She turned towards him. “I’m Erica Reyes. My mom runs the place and makes me work here _the_ _worst_ shifts just to prove I’m her slave because I chose community college instead of going away and losing my life in loans. You’re still in high school, right?”

“Uh-” Stiles was a little eclipsed by the familiarity she was talking to him. “Yeah, a senior.”

“Oh, you’ll meet Cora then. She’s my best friend’s little sister.” She cleared her voice. “The usual? Except for two now?”

Noah nodded. “Please.”

“Be right back. Oh, my god. I really can’t believe you have a kid. I knew you were a stud, sheriff.” He choked on thin air at the flirting comment while Stiles giggled and Erica went to put their order on priority, already calling her boyfriend to tell him the news.

“I like her,” Stiles announced while Noah recovered.

“I told you I could handle intense.”

“I see that now,” he smiled amusedly.

“She’s in her early twenties, with a boyfriend, and still she flirts with me. I’m twice her age, for Christ’s sake.” He grumbled still flustered.

Stiles laughed quietly, then cleared his voice. They had important things to discuss. Like… everything. “So, the Argents?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I was a bit of a rebel at that age,” he blushed slightly, “so I can tell where you got your troublemaker side from. We were both acting out, and they still took us in and tolerated our bullshit.”

“Language, sheriff.” Erica winked bringing milkshakes to their table. “Hope you guys like vanilla with strawberry.”

They smiled at her, and then he resumed the story. “I sobered up years later when I met your mother.” He smiled sweetly. “I was a goner from the start, but she wouldn’t deal with me unless I straightened up.” He cleared his voice again. “But, as I was saying, I’m very grateful towards them. They taught us a lot of things and gave us a roof over our heads. It’s just- I don’t completely trust them. Not all of them, though. For example, Chris and I are excellent friends. And the cousins were all right, I guess. It was only Gerard and Kate that I was, am still, wary about.”

“Why those two?” said Stiles enjoying greatly both the story and the milkshake.

“It’s this feeling in my gut that warns me to be careful. I’ve always had it.”

“And now you know this hottie was always meant to be a cop,” said Erica like she had been following the conversation all along while she put on the table the biggest pancakes Stiles had ever seen. “Dig in and enjoy. If you,” she pointed at Stiles, “don’t love these, you have a problem mister and we’ll have words about it until you cherish their taste.” She tapped her red nails against her hip waiting for him to take a bite.

Stiles looked unsure towards Noah, who shrugged and started to eat. “She won’t leave until you try them.”

Stiles nodded, then slowly gave them a shot. He was assaulted by the greatest flavor in the world, he moaned happily. “Oh my. These, these are why I know God is real. Please tell me we’re coming here at least every Saturday or Sunday.”

Erica walked away seemingly proud of herself and the sheriff was widely grinning. “A Sunday tradition it is.” Stiles made a small victory dance while taking another bite.

“You know,” Stiles said pensively, “I get those feelings from people too.” Noah’s eyes encouraged him to keep talking. “Yeah, like I can sense if they’re okay, iffy, or even lying. I trust your judgment on them, besides you’re a cop. I’ll take my cues from you when we go to theirs. Do you think this means I could be a cop too?”

Noah shrugged. “I think you could be anything you set your mind to.” Stiles smiled sniffing a little. “Stiles?”

“Mom used to say that to me,” his private smile was so tender and sad it made Noah’s heart beat irregularly. “She used to tell me that if I believed strongly enough on something, it would become real.”

Stiles couldn’t believe he was talking about her. It was a touchy subject for him, and yet here he was. Talking about her with the man that probably loved her as much as him, without really feeling the usual deadly hurt. It was coated in sadness and nostalgia, yes, but he was relieved to be finally speaking about her. Maybe it was because of this man. His father.

“She was something else entirely.”

They exchanged bright-eyed looks and continued their meal without further conversation. It’s not like there was much left of the food. They finished their pancakes and milkshakes rather fast. Noah paid the bill stumbling over Erica’s fun flirts. Then they headed back to the cruiser.

“Hospital now? They can give check-ups without an appointment?”

Noah smiled. “It’s a good thing to be the sheriff.”

Stiles giggled and paid attention to the road. When they got there, Noah parked near the doors without blocking the ambulance’s entrance and went straight to the nurse’s station, where a beautiful brunette was writing on charts.

“Good morning, Melissa.”

She turned happily. “Morning, Noah. Are we having something coming in?” she asked worriedly.

“No, no. I’m here on a personal matter,” he nodded towards Stiles. “I’d like you to meet my son Stiles.”

She gasped and dropped her pen. “Oh, my god.” Apparently that was the reaction Stiles should expect from everybody in this town. “You’re Claudia’s. You have her eyes and nose, even when the rest is all Noah.” She hugged him tearing up a little. He patted her on the back unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry, sorry. I’m not normally like this. The resemblance is just incredible.” She extended her hand and shook his. “I’m Melissa McCall. Your mom and I were best friends. It almost killed both of us to have her gone so suddenly. How is she?”

Noah put a hand on her shoulder. “She died seven years ago,” he muttered.

“Frontotemporal dementia,” added Stiles. She sniffed into a Kleenex.

“You had to be so small! Why are you only now showing yourself?”

“I had Rapha, my uncle, but he’s gone now too.”

“My poor kid,” she caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry for your loss. But now you’re here and Noah we’ll be taking care of you. You’ll have nothing to worry about. And if you ever need anything and can’t reach this man, you can always call me up, okay? Here, let me write my number down for you.” She retrieved her pen from the floor, quickly scribbled on a piece of paper, and gave it to him. “You’re around seventeen, right?” He nodded. “I have a son your age too. Scott. I’ll tell him to look for you at school, okay?”

“Okay, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Melissa. And I do expect you to call me, even if it’s just to say you’re out of milk or anything. I looked after your father here, so he wouldn’t kill himself from so much cholesterol and pizza.” Noah blushed.

“We’ll have to share notes on a diet, then.” Stiles smiled shyly.

“I love you already.” She grinned. “Now, what can I help you with?”

“We want to make sure we’re both healthy and confirm our father-son relationship,” said Noah.

“Good. Then go to room 3. I’ll send a doctor right away.” She smiled and kissed Stiles on the cheek. “Seriously call me or I’ll go drag you out of your room.”

“Will do.”

“Now shoo. I have work to do.”

Stiles laughed and followed Noah. They entered the room, but the more they waited the more Stiles started twitching.

“You okay?” asked Noah approaching him.

“Yeah- I don’t like hospitals nor needles. Not many fond memories.”

They both sighed. But before Noah could offer to go find someone and speed things up, the doctor opened the door. “Sorry for making you wait, sheriff. Melissa told me your situation. Hi Stiles,” he extended his hand. “I’m Dr. Dunbar. I hope you settle fast and enjoy our little town. Let’s get started.”

The tests kept Stiles’ mind from wandering off to awful recollections of one other hospital. Even with his needle fear, the doctor managed to make everything fast and pain-free, which both men appreciated. Soon enough they were let go and told the tests would be ready later that same afternoon. They went back to Melissa’s station to say goodbye but didn’t found her. Instead, they turned to go to their next destination: enrolling Stiles into Beacon Hills High.

In the car, Stiles started up the questions again. “Is it too hard to be Beacon Hill’s sheriff?”

Noah smiled easily. “Not really. We don’t get into too much trouble. The occasional robbery, domestic violence perhaps, plenty of noise complaints and some animal attacks.”

The last part picked Stiles’ interest. “Animal attacks? Like wolves and bears? Wait there are no wolves in California. I checked.”

Noah snorted. “More like mountain lions. They happen several times a year, but we know how to handle them. I have deputies specialized for those. There haven’t been any deaths from those in the past five years.”

“And homicides?”

“Extremely rare, but we’ve had three or four. And it was the same guy on different years.”

“How you knew?”

“Once is an incident, two is a coincidence and three is a pattern.”

“And four?”

“Serial killer.” Noah glanced at him. “You into this stuff?”

“I’m into everything. ADHD, remember?” Stiles shrugged. “I once made a paper on the history of male circumcision for Economics. Couldn’t focus on the 29’ Depression, but still got an A+ for how thorough my investigation was.” Stiles smirked. “According to the teacher, I’m a good narrator. He gave me the grade because I kept him interested in a subject he never thought of reading about.”

Noah laughed. “I would have loved to see his face.”

Stiles nodded grinning. “It was priceless. He didn’t even know what came over him for that decision. Gee, is the whole town surrounded by woods?”

Noah nodded. “Yeah. That’s why we get animal attacks, usually at night. Don’t go out there at that time, okay? Not entirely safe.”

Stiles nodded several times, knowing he would at some point do it. “Duly noted.”

“You’ll be going in there eventually, right?” Noah sighed. Stiles cracked a small, timid smile and nodded minutely. “You a good runner?”

“Really good. I used to be on the track team, and Rapha taught me how to protect myself. I also know how to use both a gun and a knife. Not that it would do me much good against a mountain lion, especially when I don’t own those and I don’t think you’ll let me borrow yours?” Noah shook his head. “Thought so. But yeah, I can run and climb trees really fast. I’ll call you from the top of a tree if I get caught up with some beast that would like to feed itself with my flesh and bones.”

Noah sighed. “I’ll get you flashlights and silent whistles to startle them. Maybe some pepper spray as well. Let me know when you’ll be facing off the wild so I can warn my deputies?”

Stiles chuckled. “Yeah. I’ll always tell you whenever I’m changing places or going places if you promise to do the same? And I want a police radio chatter to keep tabs on you. Man, I’m finally going to use my knowledge on police codes.”

“Promise. I’ll get that for you if you swear you won’t be crowding crime scenes. I have a feeling you might succumb to your curiosity.”

Stiles bit his lower lip. “I’ll try my best not to damage the evidence nor interfere with the investigations?”

Noah gave him a stern look after he parked. “The very best.”

Stiles beamed grabbing his papers. “Yes, sir.”

He tried to look at the whole place at once. Moving his head from one side to the other while he followed Noah to the principal’s office. Some teachers were there and it was just the weekend. The principal was also there at the moment.

“The principal is Chris’ wife, Victoria Argent,” Noah informed him. “Here we go.” He knocked softly on the door.

“Come in.”

Noah inhaled deeply, steeling himself before opening the door. Stiles’ nerves tried to show themselves. “Hello, Victoria.” He nodded and pointed Stiles to sit down.

“Noah.” She nodded. “Who’s this young gentleman?” She crossed her hands under her chin and looked him over.

“This is Stiles. He’s my son and he’s coming to live with me.”

She leaned back on her chair. “Claudia’s?” They both nodded. “I see. You’re seventeen, then.” She turned to her computer. “And a senior, unless…?”

“I’m a senior. Here are my papers.” He handed them over. She examined them.

“Straight A’s. Good. Lydia Martin is finally getting some challenge.” She smiled lopsidedly. “My daughter’s also a senior. Allison. You’ll meet her later this afternoon, right?”

“We’re coming over, yes,” said Noah. “Would you let them know? We still have some things to see before.”

“I will. They’ll all be excited to meet you, Stiles. And now I know why you go by Stiles. That’s quite a mouthful.” Both men blushed. “I’ll put a note for the teachers.” She gave a few more clicks. “I’m guessing you’re taking AP classes. You get to choose up to five.”

Stiles nodded. “I want the same ones I was already taking: Calculus, Chemistry, Forensic Science, and Computer Science.”

Noah’s eyebrows touched his hairline. His boy was smart. Stiles smiled shyly.

“Plus, regular Biology, English and PE, which is being on a sport or an art class. I’ll suggest trying out for lacrosse, it is the school’s sport.” Stiles nodded, already wondering what that was and interested in something new. “All set.” She waited for the printer. “Here’s your schedule. I’ll see both of you this afternoon then.”

They nodded. “Thank you for receiving us without notice,” said Noah shaking her hand.

“Anything for family, you know that.”

They returned silently to the car. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”

Noah nodded. “Just try to stay on her good side. I hear she’s a terrifying headmaster.”

“Yeah, I can totally see her going all military on us poor young souls. Where to now?”

“The mall. Eat there and get anything you need.”

“Grocery shopping included?”

“That too.”

“You allergic to anything?” He shook his head. “Great. Me neither.”

“Anything, in particular, you’d like for your room?”

“Well, I’d like a desk. Maybe change the color? I brought my Xbox, but I can put that in the living room. So no TV necessary. Oh, a bookshelf and a corkboard.”

“What color?”

“Definitely blue. I once tried my favorite shade of red but I could never actually get some sleep. What’s yours?”

“Brown.”

“Huh, the mall’s close to school,” Stiles said as they parked once again.

“Yeah,” he winced. “Plenty of teenagers skip it to come here for the day.”

“This place has an arcade?” Noah nodded. “Then I totally see the appeal. If a teacher hates you, it is way better to be among video games than with that authority figure glaring at you. Not that I would know anything about that. No, sir.”

“No, not at all,” Noah smirked, able to note his terrible lie.

They first went to an IKEA shop, where Stiles took his time choosing his desk, a bookshelf, and the corkboard, which would be delivered the next day. Then they went to Home Depot to pick up paint. Stiles took a while to choose among blues. There were so many. Both men groaned at the tiniest shift of tone and the millions of names, deciding on slate blue. They were entering the food area when Noah got a call from Melissa.

“Wait, I’ll put you on speaker.” Setting the phone on the table, both of them approached it to listen better. “Ready.”

“Okay. I’ve got your results with me. Stiles is perfectly healthy. His numbers are on the right side of everything, and he is definitely your son. Congratulations! But you, Noah Stilinski, have been sliding off your diet. Your cholesterol levels and triglycerides are high, again.” Noah groaned. “We talked about the number of pizzas, burgers, and steaks you could have a week.”

“But -”

“Don’t worry about it, Melissa, you just got yourself a meal watcher and diet leader.” Stiles grinned at Noah’s fake haunted look.

“Good to know. Come by my place on Monday so we decide on a plan of attack.”

“We’ll both be there for dinner.”

“Great. See you then.”

“Bye,” both men said. Noah tried to pull puppy eyes on Stiles.

“Nuh-huh. Nothing of that. I’m going to keep you healthy. Today is your last day of red meat. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Can I have a cheat day at least?” he sighed, defeated. If he was sure of anything, was that Stiles had both Claudia’s and his stubbornness. Add to that a laser focus because of the ADHD and his intellect. Yeah, his _son_ seemed fantastic.

“Sundays only. I don’t want to torture you and really—steaks. Who can live without them?” They laughed. “Crazy people only. How’s your work schedule?”

“Well, I took the day off today, as yesterday I pulled a double and, well, you. But I have to go in tomorrow afternoon. Then, in the week it changes to all shifts randomly. I don’t decide them. The station’s secretary does.”

“You don’t get some of the better shifts then?”

Noah shook his head. “I asked her not to give me preference just because I became sheriff. We’re all the same there. They just obey my orders sometimes. It’s like a family. You’ll get along perfectly with everybody at the station.”

Stiles smiled. “I’d like that. Maybe I could come to eat with you if you’re on shift during meals?”

“Yeah. If nothing is going on, it’s doable.” His phone rang again. “Hey, Chris. Yeah, couldn’t believe it myself.” He grinned at Stiles. “Now? We’re about to get a meal at the mall. Well... No. Yeah, it’s okay. We’ll eat there then. Yeah. Later.”

“Chris Argent?” Stiles asked when he hung up. He nodded.

“Gerard is eager to meet you.” He grimaced.

“You really distrust him, huh?”

“He wanted badly to break things up between me and your mom. And the next day he was excited for us to get married.” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you make of that?”

“Yeah, no. Too suspicious. I don’t think we’re going to get along.”

Noah sighed. “Kate’ll be there too.”

“And we don’t trust her either because…”

“She always supports her father, that would be Gerard, without blinking. Like his word was precious, sacred, and to be followed.”

“Ok, she’s a wacko. Anybody else I should look out for?”

He shook his head. “Only them. Fortunately, they travel a lot. Most of the time we’ll only meet with Chris, Victoria, and Allison. She’s a year older than you, but she’s a complete sweetheart. Everybody loves her.”

“Okay, I’ll stick to them then.” They stood up without a second glance at the fast-food restaurants. “Time to face the family.”

Noah nodded. “Better not to make them wait.”

Not later enough they were parking in front of the Argent household. It was a beautiful house, bigger than Stiles’ apartment in New York and the house with Noah together. At the door was a blond man with blue eyes. They approached him. Noah and the man hugged it out.

“This must be Stiles,” he smiled but it didn’t quite reach the eyes.

“Chris I’m guessing?”

The man nodded, however, before he could answer, a loud “Uncle Noah” came rushing down the stairs followed by a pretty girl with dark curls. She hugged him and turned excitedly to Stiles.

“Hi! I’m Allison.” And those were powerful dimples.

“Stiles,” he offered his hand to shake it out, but she also hugged him.

“Oh, my god, this is so exciting. I have a cousin! And your Uncle Noah’s! I want to know _everything_ about you.”

“We all certainly do, Ally dear,” said a grave voice. It belonged to an old man with a wicked glint that didn’t sit well on Stiles’ gut. “Come on in. We can have a little chat before starting on our meal.”

“And Kate?” asked Noah.

“She went grocery shopping with Victoria. I hope you like lasagna, Stiles,” said Chris.

“I actually do.”

They entered and Stiles felt anxiously trapped. Noah noticed and put a hand on his shoulder. They smiled towards each other, encouraging themselves to hold their ground. They went into the living room, which was much fancier than Noah’s.

“Well, sit down. Make yourself at home, _son_.” Again, that smile.

Stiles kept his retort at the back of his throat. Just because he didn’t like the evil look and weird smile, or the way he seemed delighted with him for no reason at all, those were not enough motives for ruining Noah’s relationship with these people, especially Gerard.

“Thank you.” He sat next to Noah, while Allison and Chris used the other large couch in front of them, and Gerard used the single one.

“So, where you’ve been all this time?” Allison asked excitedly. “My dad said you’re new to all of us!”

Stiles shrugged, wondering when Noah talked to Chris, but perhaps it was the wife. Always the wife when there’s no butler. “New York.”

“Oh, is it really that beautiful on New Year’s Eve when it snows? And the ball drops?”

“Yeah, it all gets white and bright, and sometimes at nights, it’s unusually quiet. And the decorations are just plain amazing.”

“Aw! I’d love to see it!” She clapped her hands loudly. “So, school.” She giggled at the slightly not subtly change of topic, making Stiles smile. “Are you planning on joining a sport or an art class?”

“Maybe lacrosse? I’ve never played it but it can’t be that hard, can it?”

“Oh, it isn’t. My best friend’s boyfriend is co-captain of the team. He could help you out. I have some other friends there too if he refuses. Lacrosse is _the_ big thing here.”

“Yeah, Victoria said something similar. So, if I’m on the team, am I gonna be popular or something?”

“Totally. Everybody always makes way for Lydia, my BFF, and Jackson, the co-captain. And the rest of the team is pretty respected around the halls.”

“Who’s the other captain?”

“Oh,” she blushed, “Scott McCall. He’s a really sweet and cool guy. Where Jackson loses his head and temper, Scott keeps calm and full of smiles. They compensate each other. I’ve never seen him angry.”

“That’s Melissa’s son, right?” Noah nodded. Stiles was already liking this guy. Jackson, he wasn’t sure of.

“If you get on the team, I’ll be seeing you at every training.” Stiles arched his eyebrow asking why. “I wait with Lydia on the bleaches. Jackson usually gives us a ride home.” Stiles smiled knowingly, making her blush more.

“You seem fit. What sport you used to play in New York?” asked Gerard.

“I was on the track team. I won them several golds.” He shrugged it off.

“Great!” said Allison. “You should have no problems with your physical condition. Last year’s freshmen were all in bad shape. It was really sad to watch those try-outs.”

“We’ll get your sticks,” said Gerard like he’d already been accepted.

“I need a stick?” he asked confused, looking at Noah for some kind of save. He didn’t want anything from Gerard. Chris beat him to it, moving up on his okay list.

“You’ve never watched the game?” he asked furrowing his brows. Stiles shook his head. “Father, I think he better try it for some weeks, before you start buying stuff. What if he doesn’t like it?”

“You also need a helmet and gloves. But there’s gear at school,” said Allison supporting her father. Noah shrugged.

“I didn’t know either. I’m more of a baseball fan myself.”

“Oh, my lordy’s lords,” Stiles turned completely towards him. “Please, please say Mets.”

Noah scowled. “Is there any other team?”

They grinned at each other and high-fived. Stiles faced Allison again. “You on a sport?”

“No,” she sighed. “The school doesn’t have an archery club and mom couldn’t convince the board to form it, so I joined painting with Lydia. That’s where we became best friends.”

“You like to shoot arrows?” Stiles raised his eyebrows impressed. To pull a bowstring it was needed a fair amount of strength and discipline. He could never get the hang of it when Rapha tried to teach him.

“It’s amazing,” she beamed dreamily.

“She could be an Olympic medalist,” said Gerard appreciatively. “Not only with archery but also with gymnastics.”

Stiles whistled low. “Damn, you must be really good then.”

She blushed. “I still go out shooting in the woods, but not at anything that’s moving. I couldn’t live with myself. Trees are my targets, well the targets on them.”

“You know how to shoot anything?” asked Gerard. “It’s a family tradition, so you must.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Rapha showed me the way of guns and knives.”

“What’s your favorite size?” asked Chris.

“Um... I’m not sure. I’m comfortable with any size, but I think a .40 caliber. That’s what cops use, right?” Noah nodded. “I’m also oddly good with snipers.”

“And throwing knives?” asked Gerard.

“Well… he didn’t _teach_ me that,” Noah gave him a knowing look, “but yes, I’ve done it once or twice. You know, it’s actually more dangerous for me to cook than throw a knife or catch it mid-air? It’s really weird.”

“Do I need to supervise you while cooking then?”

“No, no. I haven’t had a kitchen accident in years. Unless you count almost exploding the microwave, which I don’t. And it was for science.”

“Microwaving totally doesn’t count,” Allison intervened. “See, dad? Stiles gets it.” She rolled her eyes. “He banned me from the kitchen for putting more time than needed to warm up some pop-tarts. He won’t even let me try baking cookies!”

“Pop-tarts are tricky, right? Some do fine with 30 seconds, but others need like minutes. And you can try baking with me. I’m a cookie master.” He wiggled his fingers.

“Really? Uncle Noah, is it okay? I won’t burn anything, I swear.”

“She won’t. I’ll be keeping a close watch.” They both smiled pleadingly.

“Okay, then. You two are cleaning as well.” They nodded.

“Is tomorrow okay?”

“Uh... I don’t even know if we have stuff for cookies?” He scratched his head and turned to Noah.

“I don’t know either.” They laughed.

“Well, then. Let me check our kitchen stuff and finish settling my room first, ‘kay?”

“Sure. We’ll arrange it at school. Oh, right. Give me your phone. I’ll put my number and Lydia’s in it. She’ll be all over you with questions. She needs to know everything from everybody.” She rolled her eyes without any heat. He gave it to her. “Oh, sweet Xperia. It’s easy to use, right?”

“Yeah. What you have?”

“Samsung S10, Lydia got me a _huge_ discount.”

“How so?”

“She has this look that makes everybody cower down. She’s great with bargains. Here.” Stiles took back his phone. Before putting it away, he also added Melissa’s number. He should ask Noah for his as soon as possible. How was that not one of the first things he asked for?

“The room?” requested Gerard. With Allison, it was easy. Just eager teenagers getting to know each other’s interests. Chris was polite. However, Stiles felt under an interrogation whenever this man spoke.

“We’re painting it and adding some furniture, then Stiles will move his stuff in and truly make it his.” Stiles beamed, already imagining the future disaster it would be.

“I’m sure you’re an organized young man,” said the old man.

Stiles snorted. “Sure. There’s some order in my disorder.” Noah chuckled, while Chris sighed seeing the next sentence that would come out of Gerard’s mouth.

“Surely Raphael taught you the importance of order and discipline. Those are the essentials in this family, as well as obedience.” That last part was directed more towards Noah and Chris than Stiles, but it still felt like some sort of threat.

Stiles shrugged. “He tried, but I’m just not exactly good with being bossed around. So, for the house’s peace, he dropped the macho alpha crap.”

The tension that emerged from his statement did not go unnoticed by him, or Allison, even Noah shifted under it. Stiles glanced at him unsure of having said the wrong thing, but he looked proud of him, staring intently at Gerard like daring him to say something more. Stiles liked that defiance. It made him feel safe with Noah. His _dad_ would go against that creepy man for him. Opposing authority figures was his thing and he got it from both sides of the family.

Suddenly, the front door opened and a merry voice called out giving Stiles chills. “Hello, everybody, we’re back!”

“In here, Kate,” said Gerard. And in came the woman he already met at school, who saluted him with a nod, accompanied by a blonde in military boots.

“This is Stiles?” She approached him, pulling him up to look at him better. “My, my, Noah, he is a handsome one. You and Claudia surely made a _good_ one.” She smirked, making both Stilinski men uncomfortable.

“Thanks?” Stiles said for both of them scratching his scalp.

Victoria cleared her voice before Kate could say anything else. “The lasagna should be ready. Allison put the table, please. Stiles, help with the groceries?” Allison nodded already going.

“Sure thing,” said Stiles stepping away from Kate’s grip. Her nails were digging into his arms like claws. Not until he was outside, did he let go of his breath. Yeah, Kate and Gerard creeped him out a lot.

He sighed. He didn’t like them, didn’t remotely trust them. He had a keen urge to grab Noah and Allison and get the fuck out of there. But he couldn’t. This was meant to be his new scene, his new family. For a long time, it had just been him and Rapha, who was more like a mentor and a guardian than a relative. The Argents and he weren’t blood-related, but they had taken in both Noah and Rapha; and Allison was simply adorable, though he could feel she was a disguised badass.

All in all, it wasn’t so terrible. If he avoided Gerard and Kate, it could be awesome.

Stiles approached the open car. There were eight bags left. He was accommodating four on each arm when his cellphone started ringing. With difficulty, but not dropping the bags, he took it out. It was Gabriel. He groaned. He hadn’t exactly let anybody know he would be leaving, except for his old school, and that had been the social worker. He hadn’t wanted to receive the pitying looks he knew he would get. And now he had to break up with his fuck buddy via phone.

He answered at the fifth ring. “Hey, Gabe.”

“Hey, you free? Wanna meet?”

“Actually… I would love to, like my dick jumped when I saw your name on the screen,” he heard him chuckle, “but I’m not in New York.”

“When are you coming back?”

“That’s the thing. I’m not. At least not for a while.”

“Oh. And you couldn’t text me before? You had to wait ‘til I was horny as fuck and called you?” Allison came out of the house calling his name. He raised a hand toward her. “Wait, is that a girl? Are you ditching me for a vagina?”

“Dude, she’s my cousin!” Stiles frowned because they weren’t truly related and fucking her wouldn’t exactly be incest, just looked down upon. “Sort of. Look, it’s a long story and I know I should have warned you or something, but I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. It just happened.”

“Fine. Sorry. I’m just…” he sighed “really horny. Man, I’m already missing your dick.”

Stiles grinned. “Yeah, I’ll definitely miss your ass.” Allison’s eyes went big while she took some bags from his arms. Stiles winked at her.

“Give me a call if you come back, will ya?”

“Sure thing. Go find yourself a good fuck to try to forget me.”

“Tough, but will do. Take care of yourself.”

“Always.”

They hung up. Allison looked confused while he put away his phone. “Girlfriend?”

“Nope. Fuck buddy. And it was a guy.”

“Oh,” she blushed and entered the house. “Sorry for assuming.”

He shrugged. “It happens, but I swing both ways. Well,” he wrinkled his nose, “more like every way, maybe? I wouldn’t mind being with a trans or a drag. Let’s leave it in gender fluid. Anyway. What about you?”

“Straight, but I’m willing to a little experimentation.”

He smiled. “Nice. You done any yet?”

“I made out with Lydia once, but we were a bit drunk, so the memory is blurry.”

“Time to step up your game then.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said thoughtfully. Stiles had a feeling she was thinking about Scott. They left the bags on the kitchen counter. Stiles was about to put them away somewhere, but Allison stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “They’re waiting for us at the table.”

“Lead the way then.”

Gerard and Victoria occupied the seats on point. To Gerard’s left was Kate, then Chris, leaving him on Victoria’s right. To Gerard’s right were his father and two empty seats. Stiles sat next to the sheriff, leaving Allison to her mother’s left.

“What took you so long?” Kate asked smirking. “Were some bags too much?”

Stiles shrugged. “A friend called.”

“Everything all right?” asked Noah. Stiles gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, he just wanted to hang out.” Allison snorted into her glass of water. Stiles turned to look at her mischievously. “What? He really wanted to hang out,” he said putting a slight emphasis on the last two words. Allison almost spat out her water the moment she got the pun. Once she was able to reign in her laugh and swallow, she half-heartedly slapped his arm with the back of her hand.

“He didn’t know you weren’t in New York,” Noah asked frowning.

Stiles shrugged again. “I was more focused on other things. It slipped my mind.”

Chris decided then it was a good moment to start eating and cut into the lasagna. He served each plate a good portion and passed them along. It smelled fantastic. Stiles had to refrain himself from devouring his part the second it was in front of him.

Once everyone had theirs, Victoria nodded. “Dig in, everybody.”

Stiles grinned relieved. “Thank the goddesses, I’m hungry.” All the adults went stiff. And, again, it didn’t go unnoticed by the teenagers. Instead of biting in, Stiles found himself speaking. “What? Are you guys religious or something?”

Noah shook his head. “No. It’s just something Claudia used to say. It’s been a while.”

“Well, where do you think I got it from?” Stiles smiled sweetly at the memory of his mother’s voice saying the same words.

“Definitely not from Raphael,” sentenced Gerard.

Stiles swallowed his retort along with some lasagna. “Mmm!” he groaned. “This is delicious!”

Chris smiled sincerely for the first time of the evening. “It’s a family sauce, from my mother’s side.”

“Is there a chance you could teach it to me?” Stiles bit his lip. “It’s really good.”

Chris nodded. “As Allison can’t cook, I guess you could follow the tradition.”

“Hey!” Allison said between mouthfuls. “I could if you’d let me in the kitchen.”

“Don’t burn the cookies with Stiles and I’ll consider it.”

Allison nodded as if saying fair enough, then turned to Stiles. “So, who are the goddesses?”

Stiles smiled. “They are three. The unbiased lady Fate, the mischievous Lady Misfortune, and the lovely Mother Nature. Without them, there wouldn’t be any life. We need earth, trees, oxygen; everything Mother Nature provides. Lady Fate has at the tip of her fingers every possible outcome for every living thing in this world; based upon our choices, we weave with her our destinies. Meanwhile, Lady Misfortune adds challenge to our lives, without her everything would be easy and unreal.”

Allison hummed and swallowed. “They sound essential.”

Stiles’ smile grew bigger. “That’s because they are. In every mythology and religion, there’s an energy, a spark, that puts everything in motion and then the gods and other deities do what they do; but my mom claimed that energy to have these three women at its center, or female-like figures because birth and all that, to be the true and natural sources of it all.”

For a moment, Stiles lost himself in good memories of his mom telling and retelling him this bit of information, of her ancestors and their line of thought and beliefs. This was the story she told him more often, as well as other fantastic tales. Then Kate’s voice floated in and shattered the happy place.

“That’s an interesting view. The three of them form the spark then?”

Stiles cleared his voice. “Something like that. I don’t remember it well.”

“I think they sound awesome,” said Allison grinning.

After a couple of bites and some silence, Stiles spoke up again. “So, what do you guys do? I mean, I know Allison’s in high school where Victoria is the headmaster, and Noah here is the sheriff, but what about you three?”

Kate grinned happily while Chris’ eyes went down. “The family business,” said Gerard proudly. The way he said that made Stiles think of the Winchesters.

“Which is…?” prompted Stiles when nothing else followed.

“Trading weapons,” answered Chris. “I stay here as a base, while Kate and father reach out to our farthest and most important clients as well as getting new ones. We have the best providers.”

“Why you as a base?” Stiles would think the oldest should be stationary, even when Gerard somehow seemed very lively.

“Allison,” Chris nodded.

“We used to travel _a lot_. Moving every year. I was _always_ the new girl. Two years ago, I said enough. I wanted to graduate with actual friends. So, we’ve been here ever since.” Allison smiled proud of herself, making Stiles smile too.

“But why Beacon Hills? It seems a strange choice to stay in such a small town. No offense, sheriff,” Stiles winked at him. Noah chuckled.

“Well, Noah was already here,” said Chris. “And because it is small, some clients can come discreetly to purchase, which is essential.” Stiles hummed not entirely convinced. But small also meant relatively safer; a strong reason considering Allison as a factor.

“Noah used to be in the business, traveling with us,” said Gerard.

“Chris, Raphael, and Noah were always the new bad boys in every town,” said Kate.

“Oh, my G’s! Really?” Stiles turned to Noah, pretending not to notice the shared look between Kate and Gerard at the way he phrased that. “I can’t believe it. No, wait. I actually can. Bad boy joining the other side of the law.” Allison and Stiles giggled.

“Yes, they made a magnificent team,” said Gerard nostalgically. “Right until he met your _mother_ here and decided to drop everything and stay back, becoming a deputy.”

Stiles wanted to ask more about his mother, about that decisive moment of Noah’s, about the meeting, yet the place didn’t feel right or proper. Instead, he just smiled. “And that’s where all the weapon learning tradition came from?”

“That and hunting,” said Kate shrugging.

From the corner of his eye, Stiles saw Allison frowning. Maybe this was new information for her too. He also saw both Chris and Noah tensing and sitting straighter, again.

“Hunting for sport, really?” Allison asked her father.

“Not for sport, for safety,” cleared Chris.

“It’s nothing wrong, Ally,” said Kate. “It’s the way of life and also a useful skill for when those animal attacks come around from time to time. Less since we hunt.”

Allison was about to protest, but Stiles spoke up first. “I can see how tracking and capturing is useful for the attacks, but animals only attack when they feel threatened.”

“Or they are deranged and stupid.”

Stiles snorted, ready with a retort on his lips, but stopped himself when Noah nudged his foot in warning. He didn’t know the man and yet he could read him. Stiles felt good, pissed with Kate’s way of thinking, but good.

“What, Stiles? No comeback?” provoked Kate.

Noah sighed and nudged his foot again, giving him the go-ahead. Stiles shrugged.

“There’s a fluke in that.” Kate raised her eyebrow and motioned with her hands for him to continue. “Either they are smart enough to perceive when you’re lurking around their homes and know they don’t stand a chance, so they hide or run and fight for another piece of soil as home, which is scientifically proved by the way, or you’ve already reduced drastically their numbers as you see them as lesser beings, even when humans are animals too because you think of them as stupid and crazy. Both ways are bad because they lose; yet only the second one justifies just fine the tradition and the job, and that’s the one you so casually use to believe in, instead of science.” Noah was trying not to smile as well as Allison. Stiles cleared his throat and raised his plate. “Can I have seconds?”

“Of course,” said Victoria, serving the plate.

“Thanks,” Stiles said before digging in again, seeing how Victoria minutely shook her head towards Kate.

“Lydia is throwing a party tonight, wanna go?” Allison asked Stiles to clear the air.

“I totally would if I knew anybody.”

“You know me,” she brushed their shoulders together.

“Just now,” said Stiles smiling. “Besides you know how the newbie is always ignored at parties.” Allison grimaced a bit. Stiles shrugged. “Also, I don’t even know where it is or how to go back home from there, or anywhere really, and I got to unload the jeep from its boxes.”

“You haven’t unpacked?” asked Gerard frowning.

“Nope,” Stiles grinned popping the p. “I kinda had something else on my mind.” He gave Noah a small smile, then turned to Allison. “Don’t worry. I’ll go to the next one.”

“Fine,” Allison said sighing.

“So,” said Gerard trying for casual and abysmally missing, “you support science’s point of view?”

“Well, yes. Tons of research backs them up. And I once met this squirrel at Central Park who knew exactly who to approach to get his food.” Stiles chuckled at the memory of the poor man always sighing helplessly whenever he saw the squirrel. He could have sworn that the squirrel went to him afterward just to laugh it up together, and, of course, more food and some belly scratches. “Also, I have a selfie with a raccoon grabbing my face and bumping our noses together. She wasn’t trained.”

“Oh! Let me see it!” demanded Allison happily.

While Stiles brought up the picture, Gerard spoke up again. “I wouldn’t be very friendly with the animals around here if I were you. Noah has surely told you about the attacks.”

Before he could answer, Allison squealed and gushed over the photo. “Oh, my God! Look how cute it is, mom, dad! Uncle Noah have you seen this?!” She thrust her arm under Stiles’ nose just to reach Noah. Everybody laughed a bit.

Noah took the phone, raising both eyebrows. “You gave it food, didn’t you?”

Stiles scratched his head and shrugged. “She seemed very hungry.”

“They’re always hungry and out for food. Those around here are after humans for meals.” Kate practically snarled. “So, be careful. We don’t want anything happening to you. We just got you.” She finished sweetly. Or trying to.

“I’m always careful,” he said shrugging and taking back his phone from Noah. He took a peek at the time. “Hey, at what time the supermarket closes?”

“Seven,” answered Chris. Stiles whistled. It was already five.

“We should go then,” said Noah

“Why?” asked Allison with big eyes.

“We need groceries,” said Stiles. “We forgot to make a list, so it will take us a while.” He stood up picking up his plate.

“Leave it,” said Victoria. “It’s Chris’ turn tonight with the dishes.”

Everyone stood up then. Chris came around the table, shook both Stilinski’s hands, and started stacking up plates. Victoria gave them a short nod and helped Chris. Both Gerard and Kate gave them firm-almost-crushing-like handshakes.

“Welcome to the family,” said Gerard. Stiles felt cold for no reason.

Allison hugged them at the same time. Both men patted her back awkwardly. She released them with a big smile. “See you at school!”

They returned the smile and left as fast as possible without looking strange. When they reached the cruiser, Stiles let out a huge breath.

“G’s! That was really weird! Are they always like that?”

“Today was more intense. They were excited to meet you,” he grumbled, already backing up the car.

“But, man, there’s weird and intense, and then _that_.” Noah shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way. Stiles worried about it a bit more. They felt odd in his gut. He shook his head. There were more important things. Like food and his dad. “What’s your phone number? Allison made me realize I don’t have it. I can’t believe that wasn’t one of the many first things I asked you. Guess that says a _lot_ about my brain’s state.”

At a red stop, Noah took his phone out of his jeans and gave it to him. “I’d say it’s only natural.”

Stiles hummed putting in his number on Noah’s, texting himself, and added the contact nervously as Dad. And, of course, nerves always let his mouth run free.

“You know what else is natural? Homosexuality and queerness. Which I have. I’m bi, well lately I’ve been more inclined towards penises but I really enjoy a soft pair of boobs. How they bounce. But that’s nothing compared to how some abs just get me going, you know?” Noah made a strange noise, like a strangled and choked off deer. “You’re not homophobic, are you? That would be really bad. Because I’m not sick nor is it a sin. That’s big bible bullshit and old twisted psychiatry. And-”

“Stiles.” Thank the Goddesses he spoke. “It’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s part of who you are. It won’t make me love you any less.” Stiles’ heart beat faster, his eyes teared up slightly. They barely met and he already loved him. “Just, uh- be safe? And,” he cleared his voice,” I don’t need all the details.”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. Last thing about it. I’m active, like very. And I’m used to staying out all-nighters having that type of fun. Just so you know. It can happen. And now I’m shuttin’ up about it.”

They were both blushing by now. With Rapha, it had been a given subject. (“Where were you?” “Getting fucked.” “Warn me next time.” And then he had taken out money for condoms.) With Noah, it was like having the sex talk for the first time. Well, the second time. He received it at nine, but well, he was nine. He didn’t even want to approach other people then.

Noah parking the car took Stiles out of his head. He felt relieved because now they’d focus entirely on food. Shopping in itself didn’t take them long, but it was like Stiles was doing it with a kid. He kept amicably arguing with the sheriff for what was healthy and what wasn’t, laughed when Noah tried to sneak in some awful cookies Stiles was sure he didn’t even like and smiled happily when Noah sighed at the sight of so many vegetables. They even made a brief pause to take out a new set of house keys for Stiles.

The drive back was as entertaining and friendly. Stiles felt like he had a family again. A little broken and incomplete, but not lacking the warmth his mom had given him. It made his heart ache for them, his mom and dad. They could have been so happy, and yet, she had decided to leave this perfect home behind. Stiles couldn’t figure out why and he was good with mysteries and puzzles.

Right after they put the groceries away, Noah sent him to bed as he’d wake him up early to paint. This time there was a hug included. Stiles was overjoyed. He went to sleep with a smile on his face, happy for himself, unaware of how much he brightened the sheriff’s life.


	2. Chapter 2

# 2

It was awfully early, or so Stiles thought when his dad woke him up. He groaned and turned, but the sheriff shook him until he managed to get him out of bed. The mention of pancakes did the trick. Stiles had to slap himself awake a couple of times. He wasn’t a morning person. After a cup of coffee, he was inside the cruiser looking a little more alive. The sheriff thought when he saw Stiles’ eyes focus on everything, that coffee for Stiles was like a power button. You could see it in the way his eyes weren’t looking at anything and then they suddenly lightened up as his bright mind awakened.

Breakfast went as entertaining and delicious as the day before. However, Erika kept the flirts at a minimum. Stiles thought it had something to do with the muscular black guy at the counter. Noah confirmed that was her boyfriend. This time the chat was centered on some of Stiles’ childhood adventures that land him several trips to the hospital. The sheriff kept on laughing and tearing up as well as asking all the right questions about his silly games, and all the details he could remember about his mom’s particular visit.

Having had their bellies full, they went back home. After changing into unusable clothing for social interactions, they took out the painting cans. They pushed the furniture away from the walls Then, they put plastic on the floor while pushing each other and trying to tickle the other—they were like kids—and set themselves to work.

The mission was to get the four walls painted and ready before noon or so. Stiles put on some music to accompany them. Noah was surprised at how random the playlist was. It went from pop to rock, to classical and oldies, to hip hop, to electronic, and on and on. There was everything in it. And Stiles knew the lyrics to every song. From time to time, he shared a fun anecdote related to the song or stopped mid-phrase to sing along, making Noah smile and remember Claudia dearly. It was something she used to do too.

Two hours past noon they high-fived as they had achieved their goal. Stiles’ room was now slate blue. They took out the plastic and empty cans, then went into the kitchen to fill their stomachs with a couple of healthy sandwiches. Stiles laughed at the sheriff’s grimace of so much lettuce, wheat sprouts, and tomatoes.

They were finishing their food when the doorbell rang. Outside were the guys from Ikea bringing over the furniture they had chosen. Stiles led them upstairs to leave it all outside his bedroom while Noah washed the dishes. When the guys left, Stiles came down to an awaiting sheriff.

“We should unload your jeep. My shift is in an hour. I’d like you to follow me to the station, meet everyone and then come back to unpack some more or, well, whatever you’d like to do. It would take an hour tops, the same time your room will need to dry.”

“Yeah, sounds great.” They went outside. “Most of the boxes are my own, but, um, there are a couple that will probably catch your attention. They have mom’s and Rapha’s most important possessions. Uh, you could look through them to, I don’t know, remember them or see what it was like… if you want to, of course.”

“I’d like that, yes. Thank you.”

Stiles cleared his voice, rolled his shoulders, and opened his jeep. “Sure, no problem. I don’t think there’s another person besides you and me that treasured them.”

Noah stifled a sob. His two most important people were no longer a part of his world, one for several years now, but right then he felt the blunt reality of them gone. At least, he thought while glancing at Stiles and grabbing the first box, they left him one more treasure to cherish. Stiles was his’ and Claudia’s son, who was kept safe by his brother. He’d do everything for this kid, his kid, their kid.

There were several boxes. The jeep was full of them. But between the two of them, they emptied it fast. The boxes were set in the living room for Stiles to organize them when he came back from the station. Both went to shower and change clothes. Stiles smiled when he saw his dad wearing his uniform once more.

“Ready, kiddo?”

“I was born ready, sheriff.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think all your anecdotes confirm that.” Stiles fake pouted. “Let’s go.”

Stiles followed his dad outside and then in the jeep. The drive wasn’t too hard to remember. It was quite easy getting anywhere in Beacon Hills. Compared to New York, everything seemed near. He parked in a visitant’s spot and went inside after his dad.

At the front desk, there was an officer. “Hello, Tara. This is Stiles, my son. He’ll be coming by often, so remember his face.”

“Yes, sheriff. Welcome home, Stiles,” she smiled and answered the phone. He smiled back and waved.

Further inside, there were a few desks and a couple of officers. The deputies were at ease as work seemed slow that day. Noah approached them.

“Deputies. This is my son, Stiles, as you’ve probably heard of already. Stiles, these are my most trusted deputies and the ones trained for animal attacks. Laura Hale, Vernon Boyd, and Jordan Parrish.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Jordan and Laura while Boyd nodded.

“Hi, but shouldn’t you guys be put separately? So there’s always one of you ready to be dispatched or something? Aren’t you Erica’s boyfriend?”

“I am,” he nodded again.

Laura laughed. “You’re smart! Tara usually schedules us apart. Today’s just your lucky day of meeting us all in here.”

“Jordan, will you get Stiles his own radio and a silent whistle?”

“Sure thing, sheriff.”

“Tell me all about you, Stiles,” Laura walked him to her desk. “Because town gossip can get a bit crazy.”

“Really? What are they saying?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Sheriff adopted a kid, must be his forties’ life crisis. Stuff like that.”

“I’m standing right here, deputy Hale,” said his dad. Laura stuck her tongue out. The sheriff shook his head in resignation.

Stiles laughed. “That’s insane. Forties’ life crises are motorcycles.”

“I know! And the sheriff’s just too sane to have a life crisis. He knows perfectly well where he stands in this world.”

Stiles smiled and looked up at his dad. “Yeah, he’s awesome.” The sheriff scratched his neck.

“And badass. So, tell me. Because he won’t say much.”

“Well, we just met. I found out recently he existed and well I surprised him as well with my existence,” he bit his lip.

“My, must have been a nice meeting. And now that you’re here, rest reassured: I always keep your dad’s back. We all do.”

“Best sheriff this town has ever had,” said Jordan coming back with the radio and whistle. He gave them to Stiles. “You know how to use them?”

“Yeah. If not, I’ll figure it out. I like to research.”

“Come on, kiddo. I’ll show you my office before my deputies can embarrass me more.”

“We’d never do that,” said Laura mockingly. Jordan chuckled but tried to cover it with a cough when the sheriff’s eyes stopped on him. They went back to their desks.

The office was neither big nor small. It had a board with post-its, a map, and some headlines connected by a red string. There was also a desk with several folders and a couple of chairs.

“Hey, that’s how I solve mysteries too. Though I also use green and yellow to differentiate status.”

“Must run in the family then,” he smiled and let Stiles wander around.

On the desk was a picture of his mom and dad, staring lovingly at each other. Stiles touched the frame afraid of breaking it. Noah stood next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It was one of our last dates. We were 28-years-old. I had already been a deputy for four years. We’d been dating for five. I was already looking at rings. And well... you know the rest.”

Stiles nodded. “You looked so happy.”

“We were.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Boyd opened it slightly. “Sorry, boss. We have a 211.”

Stiles tried to make some memory, but his codes were rusty. His dad explained. “It’s a robbery. Nothing to worry much about. Odds are the place had cameras and we’ll get the guys in no time. Go home. I’ll be there for dinner at ten if nothing urgent comes up.”

Stiles nodded and hugged him. “Be careful.”

“Always, kiddo.”

After a reassuring nod from Boyd, Stiles waved goodbye to the other deputies and got back in the jeep. He went back to the house barely resisting his urge to explore the woods. He needed to put his stuff in one place first.

Back at the house, he pulled his most important boxes up and set them outside his door. First, he checked on the painting while putting on some music and quickly looked up how to use the police radio. After tuning in to his dad’s feed as background noise, he started setting up his new furniture.

It didn’t take long to make the room into a living, comfortable place. Quickly, he emptied the boxes as well. He came down again to cautiously put his mom’s and Rapha’s boxes in a corner for the sheriff to look through. Then, he hooked on his Xbox in the living room.

However, instead of playing a game right away to check sound and image, he went out to the back yard. There was an itch in his chest he recognized both as anxiety settling in and curiosity. Beacon Hills had something earthly that made him want to be outside breathing fresh air all day. It helped ease that pressure on his chest.

All his psych readings and therapists had pointed out this sensation as him accommodating to his new permanent situation. It wasn’t bad per se, but it hadn’t appeared until after two bad horrible facts. He sighed and scratched his chest. It sucked why and how he came to know his father. However, to finally know him, meet him, talk to him… it was amazing. Stiles was conflicted about it. He couldn’t imagine how the sheriff himself was handling things.

He wasn’t sure how much time he sat out there just contemplating life when his cell pinged with a text. It was his dad saying he was heading back early, out-betted by his deputies. Stiles chuckled sending an ok as a response. Then he got off his ass and started in on a healthy meal.

Even though he had yet to settle into the new routine, he was happy and relieved to be taking care of someone dear to him. It always helped him to have a project to focus on and distract him from his interior turmoil. He was quite fond of ignoring the problem until it went away; though it hadn’t exactly helped handle his mother’s death or anything. Bad habits die hard, but now at least he could start remembering without feeling like his whole world was collapsing. He recalled his mom’s hugs and Rapha’s comforting pats on his head. Stiles sniffled. It was horribly sad they were gone, but if that hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t have known his dad now. The sheriff quickly got into his important people list, which wasn’t that long these days. Either way, he was sure it was the same for his dad. Still, he hoped that list grew longer for both.

Not too long later, Stiles heard the front door opening. “I’m back!”

“In the kitchen! Follow the smell of healthy food, p-.”

Stiles had a minor heart attack then. He almost called him _pops_. He hadn’t even called him _dad_ out loud yet. He was ridiculously afraid of saying it, jinx it somehow, and lose his last living relative. Which was stupid, he was aware of it. But he didn’t know how the sheriff would react.

“What meal of hell are you preparing now?” The sheriff sighed and sat down, but then he noticed Stiles frozen on the spot. “Son?”

Stiles turned around like a dying man on a mission. “So… what would you do if- if I called you ‘dad’? Because Rapha almost choked every time I tried, which made sense because he was, in fact, my uncle. But you… you’re actually my father, and I’m kind of afraid you’ll implode or something if I say it.”

The sheriff smiled overjoyed. “I’ll be more than happy when you call me dad, Stiles.”

“Okay, okay. Dad,” Stiles bit his lip, and his smile reflected the sheriff’s, “we’re having chicken and salad.”

“Well… that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Stiles whispered.

*

Monday morning found Stiles so nervous, he passed on the coffee offer. Instead, he grabbed an apple and some juice. The sheriff could tell from the non-stopping hands that it was for the greater good he didn’t drink it.

It was a tad early for his shift, but he wanted to guide Stiles to school, just in case. At the suggestion, Stiles sighed relieved. He was anxious about getting lost and meeting new people. Soon they were out the door and driving. Before the entrance, the sheriff honked and said goodbye by sticking his hand out. Stiles did the same and took a turn; the sheriff kept on driving.

Time to face his age.

Fortunately for him, he had Allison. She was already waiting for him at the entrance. At the sight of the sheriff’s cruiser, she quickly stepped towards the jeep she guessed correctly belonged to Stiles.

“Morning,” she smiled as Stiles stopped the car. He smiled back and gathered his stuff. He had brought his books with him from NY.

“Hey, you.”

“I’ll show you around what I can before first term. Also, we have to meet with Lydia. She wants to be there for your triumphant entrance.”

She intertwined their arms and walked confidently towards the central building. They attracted several looks as not every day you saw Allison Argent hanging from a guy’s arm. Stiles scratched his neck with his free arm due to the attention, but she seemed unaware, happily pointing at everything.

At the door, a petite redhead—strawberry blond, Stiles corrected himself—waited for them, next to a guy with a crooked jaw. She stretched a hand towards Stiles, palm up.

“Schedule,” she demanded. Stiles glanced at Allison and saw her nodding. He shrugged and took it out of his bag.

“Stiles, these are Lydia and Scott.” If she already smiled sweetly, then the one directed to Scott was pure honey and sugar. He seemed a little oblivious of it, though his smile turned sweet too for a moment.

“Hey, man. Mom asked to help you out if that’s okay?”

“Sure thing. She seems cool, by the way, and threatened me to keep in touch.”

“She will smother you and adopt you if you give her the chance.”

“Sounds awesome.”

“She is. You like Call of Duty?”

“Dude, I’m the king of CoD!”

Lydia spoke up then. “Get your geek and nerd out some other time, McCall. Interesting AP’s, you’d be with me most of the day. We don’t share Computer Science. You’d be with Danny then. Ally will be in Bio with you and some of the others, as well as English with also Scott, and PE, well, that we will see. Shall we?”

She gave back his schedule. She was bossy. Stiles had a weakness for brains, attitude, and looks. Sadly, she was taken by what was probably a douche. He’d have to settle for friends.

The three of them showed the whole school to Stiles. During that time, Stiles figured out several things. That Lydia was a fucking genius, a deadly queen and soon to be a great friend of his; that Allison was indeed crazy for Scott; and that Scott was now his best friend for they shared a love for comics, video games, and junk food. Dumb best friend, because he was as crazy for Allison as she was for him. Though he was very discreet about it in front of her and had made no move whatsoever, he couldn’t deceive Stiles nor Lydia, who kept rolling her eyes and started sharing painful obvious looks with Stiles.

All in all, Stiles thought he might fit in just right in Beacon Hills.

The bell rang and Lydia dragged him away from Allison and Scott, heading straight for a building. He guessed she’d play guide or plain enjoyed directing people without saying it. She looked like she’d never take a no for an answer. Stiles was more than happy to let her do as she pleased. This was her domain.

Throughout the first half of classes, Lydia made him retell his whole life story. She shared a few of her own, some about her boyfriend (with whom she was painfully in love and was indeed an ass), and most about the social status in Beacon High. Stiles paid little attention to his classes as he discovered they touched themes he had already learned or seemed boring. Besides, Lydia was far more interesting than Harris.

Suddenly, it was time for lunch. Lydia took him to the cafeteria and sat them on the table that was in the middle. Soon enough, the place started to fill. More looks were sent his way, but also a few sat down at the same table. They glanced at him and raised eyebrows at Lydia, who didn’t do a thing about presentations. Just when Stiles would start feeling uncomfortable, Allison and Scott sat next to him.

“How was your morning?” asked Allison.

“Fine, I guess. Nothing new in classes. That Harris guy is awful.”

“Dude, you got Harris on the first day? That hurts,” added Scott. Stiles smiled at him.

“Anyone care to introduce us?” said a girl with brown hair and green eyes, next to a blonde curled haired guy with blue eyes.

“Yeah, sorry,” said Scott. “Everybody, this is Stiles, new arrival and the sheriff’s son. Stiles, these are Cora, Isaac, Danny, and Jackson.”

“Cora! Erica said I’d be seeing you around.”

Cora frowned. “She sure is chatty.”

“Yeah, but amazing. The pancakes are to die for.” Stiles turned to the boys then. “And you’re… the co-captain, the goalie, and the attacker.” Jackson rolled his eyes, while the other two smiled cheekily. “Sore spot, I’m guessing.”

“You have no idea,” said Lydia flipping her hair to the side.

“His brains are rotten with Lacrosse,” said Cora biting fiercely into her apple. Stiles gulped. She was not to be messed with.

“Allison mentioned you’ll be trying out,” said Danny and those were beautiful power dimples too.

“Tryouts were in September, we’re in February,” grumbled Jackson.

“Unless you want Greenberg still on defense, I say we let him try out,” added Isaac.

“I think he’ll be good. I’ll teach him everything. He’ll be there with me,” said Scott.

“Fine. Wednesday. We have a game in two weeks. If he’s gonna be on the team, you’re going to make him marvelous in that position.”

“Yeah,” Scott smiled and bumped-fist Stiles the win.

“We’ll help,” said Danny for him and Isaac. Cora rolled her eyes again.

“Everything’s about lacrosse around here, eh?” Stiles chuckled. “Cora, what do you do?”

“Special permit as I kick ass in martial arts.”

“Wow, do you compete?”

“Not really. I just like to hit things. Allison said you used to run?”

“Yeah. By the way, is there a path to follow in the woods? I can’t _wait_ to run in there.”

Allison grabbed his arm. “Stiles, you heard my aunt and your dad has told you they’re not exactly safe.”

“Yeah, but at most I’ll encounter bears or mountain lions. I did my research. As there are no wolves in California, I can outrun any other animal or climb trees. And there will definitely be owls, raccoons, and rabbits. Those are harmless and quite friendly. And if there’s a path, which there must be, they would know not to stray too close. They’re smart.”

“Just don’t go running at night and you’ll be fine,” Cora rolled her eyes.

“See?” Stiles smiled absurdly happy. The woods were calling him out and it had been hard not to answer the call so far. “So, what days are lacrosse training?”

“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays,” answered Danny.

“Oh, then there’s practice today? But I don’t have anything, not even gym clothes.”

“You could just watch today with us,” said Allison. “You get a feel for the game, look up the rules.”

“Yeah, we can practice tomorrow. You’re having dinner at my place today, right?”

“Yeah. Your mom is helping me create a diet for my dad.”

Scott grinned. “She’s always doing that. You could follow my bike after practice to get to my house.”

“Thanks, man.”

The bell rang then. Instead of following Lydia, this time Allison snatched his arm to guide him. She asked him how he was liking the school so far and what he thought of everybody. Stiles smiled.

“It’s weird being with the popular crew. I used to be part of the troublemakers and invisible in New York,” he chuckled. “But you guys are cool. And tight.”

They would have kept on chatting, but the teacher threatened with detention. Allison blushed, never having been on the receiving end of that. Stiles shrugged it off. He was used to it.

His next classes passed in a blur. Soon enough, Stiles was seating next to Allison and Lydia on the bleaches. He had one eye on his phone with the rules and the other on the field. Allison pointed out who was who. Lydia explained the ambiguities of the game. Stiles bit his lower lip. This could be a game he’d enjoy playing. He felt a rush of excitement when Scott threw someone down and even when Jackson scored. He was definitely picking lacrosse.

Coach’s whistle was loud on the bleaches. The girls and he walked to the cars. Scott and Isaac met them there, the latter was hitching a ride from Jackson. Stiles memorized the road to Scott’s easily. Melissa was already in the kitchen when they got there.

“Hello, boys,” she gave each a kiss. “How was your first day, Stiles?”

“Smooth. Allison, Lydia, and Scott here made coming and going easy.”

“Good,” she pinched Scott’s arm, making him smile and roll his eyes. “Go play something while I finish dinner. We’ll talk more then.”

Scott guided Stiles to his room, powering up his Xbox. Apparently, it was time to geek out and chat. “What did you think about lacrosse?”

“Looks fun, dude. I’m not sure about the being thrown to the ground part, but I definitely want to be the one doing the throwing.” Scott laughed, then pouted when Stiles headshot his character. While Scott respawned, Stiles texted his dad he was already at Scott’s. He answered that he’d be there soon.

Scott cleared his throat and tried to kill him with a grenade. He missed. “So… how are you really shaping up to Beacon Hills?”

Stiles glanced at him and killed him again. “It’s… different. The good kind of different. I don’t really miss NY. I just...” He bit his lip and remained silent a moment. Scott had a trustworthy air about him that made him open up. He’d never had a real friend to confide in before. “I want answers,” he whispered, then gulped. “Though I’ve adjusted just fine to my dad being real and alive. You wouldn’t believe the wild theories I came up with over the years.”

Scott nudged him with his shoulder. “I know what you mean. It’s a new place with new faces and possibilities. And it’s not bad.” Stiles looked at him with a question at the tip of his tongue. “My mom kicked my dad out of the house when I was six. It was hard. She worked more shifts to keep us afloat, but it was all for the better. Plus, your dad helped me a lot.” He scratched his arm. “I sometimes even dream of them being together, no offense to your mom.”

Stiles shook his head. “None taken. My mom and dad would have been amazing together, I just know that. But it never happened. I’m going to figure out why eventually. I’m sure she would like to see him happy now.”

“For what I’ve heard so far, you’re making him happy.” Scott then turned his head to the side. Stiles cleaned his nose on his shirt. It was nice having someone say he wasn’t hurting his last parent. “Your dad’s here.”

They shut off the game and pushed each other all the way down. It helped Stiles gain control of himself once more. Yet throughout the meal, he could see the reason behind Scott’s dream. Melissa knew how to convince her dad, while he discreetly suggested taking better care of herself. Scott raised a pointed eyebrow to Stiles, who nodded back. Stiles could easily get used to this scenario.


	3. Chapter 3

# 3

After dinner, Melissa and Stiles drafted up a diet for his dad. Then, Scott showed Stiles the basics of lacrosse while Melissa and his dad played coach and public for them. Though two hours later both of them were declaring the practice over. It was a school night and barely the beginning of the week.

Stiles and Noah drove separately back to their home. As soon as they crossed the door, Noah was asking how his day was. Stiles treated him to the same. With a strong hug, Stiles would turn into a regular thing, they both went to sleep.

*

The next morning Stiles woke up to a text from Scott. He told him to bring gym clothes so they could practice during their free period and after classes. It was all good as the sheriff would have the evening shift.

Classes proved to be the same. Stiles was more interested in observing his new classmates, in particular how his new friends acted towards each other. Danny and Isaac seemed close, though Danny was Jackson’s best friend. Lydia and Allison were tight. Cora came and went as she pleased on even terms with all, though she did pay closer attention to Isaac, who seemed to glow under her eyes. Stiles guessed they liked each other but hadn’t confessed. Though, it amazed Stiles how they referred to Scott in some stuff; he was respected among them.

During English, Stiles met Kira and Malia. Kira was a cute little thing and Malia a fierce girl, cousin to Cora. Isaac introduced them as a couple. Stiles high-fived both of them, congratulating them. He sat next to Isaac, leaving Scott strategically sitting behind Allison. He blushed when Stiles winked at him and tried to hide his dopey grin to no avail. Cora sat next to Kira on another row. Stiles noted Isaac’s eyes following her. His own eyes glinted with purpose.

“Isaac,” Stiles whispered, “do you like Cora?” When Isaac blushed and his stuff fell from his desk, Stiles knew his guess had been right.

“S-Stiles, we’re in class.” Isaac looked at him pleadingly, trying not to let his eyes wander to Cora herself.

Stiles pointed at him. “I’ll drop it. For now.” Isaac gulped and jittered nervously all class.

The bell rang. It was time for their free period.

Scott guided Isaac and Stiles toward the open field. They wouldn’t do much then as they didn’t have much time. The real practice would be that evening. They helped Stiles get used to throwing and receiving the ball. Then, when Isaac sensed Stiles was about to continue his interrogation, he suggested running and catching. It kept Stiles from talking. He was panting when the bell rang again. He narrowed his eyes at Isaac’s cherubic face. Apparently, it hid an asshole. Oh, he’d get back at him.

The rest of the classes went by like a breeze. Soon, he was changing his clothes and all his new friends were walking out with him on the field. Jackson stood on the side to supervise them and pretend to be the coach. Danny went to the goalie. Isaac and Kira stood facing both Stiles and Scott.

Scott had explained how it would play out. Isaac and Kira would attack one after another or in pairs while Stiles and Scott defended Danny’s goal. The first few times were hard. Isaac and Kira were fast, but once Stiles’ eyes adjusted to their moves, he was capable to guess where their feet would move next. After he caught them by surprise a couple of times, Scott instructed him to try throwing them off.

When Jackson started nodding along each time Stiles managed to keep them both on the ground, he joined.

“Now, remember the rules and the moves,” said Scott. “We’ll try to make it as a real game would be. Malia, can you play goalie for us?” Malia nodded and left her stuff with Lydia. “Cora, be their defense?” She huffed but went to help.

It was Malia, Scott, Stiles, and Kira against Jackson, Isaac, Cora, and Danny. Lydia clapped to signal their start. Stiles was surprised to be able to keep up with them. It was harder like this, but more fun. Scott encouraged him to not only play defense but to aid Kira in the front. Stiles thanked all his track races and Rapha’s rough training, otherwise, he would be lying on the ground searching for lungs. When Kira scored, Stiles hooted happily.

He was even happier when Lydia stopped their practice, claiming it was late. He was hungry and tired. Jackson grumbled all the way to the showers. Scott and Stiles made up a great defensive line—neither he nor Isaac could score with them blocking their path.

“Dude, Coach will love you and open his arms to accept you! He might even throw us a party!” yelled Scott. Stiles laughed but didn’t share the confidence.

“Well, we’ll see.”

“Trust me. If he’d seen us today, he’d be gaping.”

Isaac nodded along. “Yeah. If I hadn’t known, I’d say you’ve played forever.” It was until Jackson agreed that he’d be accepted into the team that Stiles felt more sure of himself.

When he got home, the sheriff was already there grumbling into the fridge. Stiles chuckled and told him to sit down. He made an easy, healthy dinner straight from Melissa’s nutritional guide. Stiles happily retold how their practice went. The sheriff was especially interested in how Stiles enjoyed it. A hug later, Stiles was crashing onto his bed.

*

Classes flashed by as Stiles stared at the clock on the wall until it was lacrosse practice. Coach eyed Stiles during the combined speech Jackson and Scott were using to convince him to let him try out for the team; both aware it was past due its time. What got Coach agreeing was how it would improve their defense.

He prepared a mock game, putting the best attackers against Stiles and Scott. It was difficult, but they managed to block them and throw them off. Stiles felt Scott’s presence as a tingling in the back of his head; he could have pinpointed with a blindfold where was Scott standing. It did wonders for their chemistry as a defensive pair.

Indeed, Stiles made first line. Greenberg was benched, but he didn’t seem upset about it. Coach demonstrated his happiness of having a strong defense line by making them do suicides. It was all right, so all right Stiles felt like bursting out of his skin with energy.

After a shower and congratulations from his new teammates and friends, Stiles went home to prepare a meal. It didn’t take him long. He packed it up and took it to the station. Stiles needed to share the news with his dad.

Ten minutes later, Stiles was saluting everybody at the station as if he’d been there his whole life instead of the second time. They greeted him heartfeltly even when some faces were new, though Parrish was on shift again.

As his dad’s door was open, he jumped into the office with arms full of food and jittery happiness. “I made the team!”

The sheriff stood up happily and went around his desk for a congratulatory hug. “I’m proud of you, son.”

After sitting down, the sheriff made space on his desk for the food. Stiles retold the whole deal detail by detail. His dad was entranced. He was really good at storytelling. Stiles was finishing up when Parrish knocked on the door to announce himself.

“Congratulations, Stiles,” he smiled and gave him a donut. “The whole station feels happy for you, so we decided to honor you with the last donut of the day.”

“That is high honor around here, kiddo.” Stiles accepted the gift with a warm feeling that awfully seemed like home. He ate it as if he hadn’t eaten in days. The sheriff chuckled.

Stiles licked his fingers clean and picked up the empty containers. “Oh! I’m gonna check out the woods today. I’ve put it off long enough, what with practice and all that.”

“You just trained, aren’t you tired?” The sheriff accompanied Stiles across the station.

“Pff! Not at all. I could jump out of my skin!” Stiles was practically vibrating where he stood.

“I can see that,” the sheriff’s eyes shined with joy. “Deputy, please keep your ears out.”

“It’s been quiet, but will do, sir,” answered Parrish settling on his desk.

“See you at home, Pops!” Stiles yelled as he walked outside.

At home, he left the containers on the sink and took two stairs at a time to change. He put on a loose shirt and shorts, grabbed a hoodie, his cell, whistle, and pepper spray. Conveniently, his shorts had zippers in them, making it easy to carry all this stuff.

He frowned, wondering where to start. He should have asked Cora for better trail specifics. Though he decided to start his run in his backyard. Maybe he’d recognize the house better than any other point to come back to. He stretched easily, rolled his shoulders, and jogged into the beautiful woods.

The air entered easier in his lungs there, surrounded by trees. After a couple of missteps, he set on a calm rhythm and kept his eyes on nature’s beauty. The birds chirping away and the leaves rustling kept a smile on his face. Each time he stopped to rest he fell a little bit more in love with the place.

After checking the time, he decided it was better to go back. Yet, much to his surprise (not), he was lost. He had tried to run straight, but the flowers and roots made him take some turns. And now he couldn’t find his way back. He stopped jogging and walked, narrowing his eyes at the trees in an attempt to recognize them. They all looked the same.

At some point, he decided to stop and look for a map on his cellphone. He had bad reception. Trying to catch some signal, he stumbled upon a squirrel and a raccoon. Both animals stared at him and didn’t move when he approached. After a few scratches and petting, the squirrel settled on his shoulder and the raccoon walked around him and between his legs. He snapped a quick photo of them for Allison. However, some meters further in, both animals blocked his path. He looked straight up and saw a clearing that was most definitely not his house. It seemed to have something big at its center, though. He wanted to get a closer look, but neither of them left him through.

“I just want to see what it is, guys,” he huffed but turned around.

Amazingly, the raccoon grabbed his hand and started walking in a totally different direction. Stiles went along and snapped another photo. Even more impressive was that, ten minutes later, he was back in his yard. He gave grateful scratches to them and saw them go.

Yup, he loved Beacon Hills.


	4. Chapter 4

# 4

By Friday, Stiles felt completely settled in Beacon Hills. Between teasing Allison and Scott about each other, challenging Lydia’s brain, planning out pranks with Danny and Cora, speaking lacrosse with Jackson and Isaac, and sharing his meals with his dad both at home and at the station, he felt like he’d been here his whole life.

Sure, he missed some aspects of his New York life. He missed trying to see the stars with his mom, going to the shooting range with Rapha, and losing himself in clubs and parties. New York in itself had never truly pulled Stiles in. There, he was one more anonymous face in the crowd who happened to lose his mother and guardian. Here, he was Stiles Stilinski, son of Claudia and Noah, best friend of Scott, new police station pet, Lydia’s brain partner, and more.

The only thing he was dying to do was get laid again. It had been a while. He had been preoccupied with Rapha’s dying wish and his discovery and settling in Beacon Hills. By now, he was more than ready for some action.

Stiles nudged Danny during their class. Danny narrowed his eyes at him, not sure if he was going to be reprimanded by this or not. In his few days, Stiles had managed to both impress and terrify most teachers, evading detention by sheer luck.

“Hey, are there clubs here?”

Danny let out a relieved sigh and smirked at him. “Lydia’s been planning to visit Jungle for a while. It’s a gay club, where she and Allison can dance without unwanted attention drooling over them. We could go today?” Stiles nodded happily and went back to their app task. Danny beat him one second before the bell to deliver it.

During lunch, Stiles approached Lydia about Jungle. Everybody agreed to go, except Cora. She didn’t like clubs much because they were loud. Either way, Cora was going to show him that Sunday which trails were safer in the woods for his runs.

When Stiles went home, his dad hadn’t arrived yet, but would soon. He prepared them something fast to eat and went to shower. Stiles had been dying for this precise moment. He was in serious need of getting laid. There were new pretty people in his life, most taken or soon to be, and by now he’d been two months without any action. This night at Jungle he was going to get some.

He dressed as hot as he knew how. Tight dark jeans, a fitted black shirt, and his cool sneakers. His hair was a lost cause. If he tried to comb it, it would look weird; if he succeeded, it wouldn’t last longer than five minutes without him ruining it by running his hands through it. Fortunately, it wasn’t too long and managed to take form on its own.

When Stiles came down, the sheriff was watching a game on TV with his share on the small desk. He whistled when he saw him. “Hot date?”

Stiles stretched and smiled. “More like let’s party with friends. But I do hope so for that date. Lydia is taking us all out to a club called Jungle?” The sheriff nodded. Stiles bit his lip nervously. “So… I might be out late. Like late coming-in-the-morning late, if I get lucky. Which I’m planning to.”

The sheriff coughed trying to hide his blush, because, well, his son was going out to have sex with a stranger. Then he frowned because a stranger with his son. Not a very comforting thought. Still, he nodded. “Okay. Let me know if, uh, you know.”

Stiles scratched his cheek, blushing a little. “Yeah, yeah, sure thing.” He grabbed his keys. “I’m gonna- get going. I’m picking up Allison.”

“Have fun and, uh,” he cleared his throat, “be safe.”

“Always am, pops.” He fired gun fingers and left the house. He climbed Roscoe and giggled. Even when that had been awkward, it was also oddly comforting.

Having learned the road by now, Stiles spent all the way to Allison’s place picturing who he wanted to be with. Definitely a guy. It had been an awfully long time since he last bottomed. Hot, obviously. Dark and mysterious would be a very wanted plus. He liked taking risks with his hook-ups, but knowing his father was an officer of the law made it all more tempting and relaxing (his dad could find the guy and arrest him). Strong was a must. He wanted to be well and thoroughly fucked.

He had half a boner when he honked his arrival at Allison’s, which didn’t calm down as she walked outside. She was wearing a simple white and blue vertical stripe [dress](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b5/99/ab/b599ab8fcde5b37f9963fcd163820039.jpg), matched with a brown leather jacket and short brown boots. It gave off the impression of sweet and sexy with her natural make-up.

“What?” she said as she climbed the jeep.

Stiles gave her an obvious once-over. “Someone’s trying to make a boy crazy.”

She smirked a little, then patted her dress. “It’ll help with my purpose tonight.”

“Which is?” Stiles backed away from the entrance and headed to Jungle under Allison’s directions.

“Push him to either kiss me, ask me out, or anything really,” she huffed.

“It’ll do the job. Trust me. Here I am getting all hot and fuzzy for some cock, and you looking like that is still very appreciated. If he doesn’t do anything, you broke his brain with all your cute-sexy going on.”

“Then I’ll kiss it better.”

“You martyr.”

They laughed and kept on chatting about silly things. As soon as they parked at Jungle and met up with the others, he was already pumped up with excitement. He was more than thrilled for some action, but he also enjoyed dancing deeply.

Lydia looked them both over and gave her approval. Stiles could have sworn he saw Scott swallowing, who was pushed a tad harsh by Isaac, probably to knock him out of any daydreaming. Stiles chuckled, elbowed Allison, and winked at her.

“Before we go inside, I gotta say something,” Stiles called them up. “I’ll disappear at some point of the night and hopefully won’t see you guys ‘til Monday or tomorrow night,” he smirked.

“You’ll warn us, right?” asked Allison linking their arms, in the least worried about how she’d get home later.

Stiles nodded. “Yup. I’ll text you.”

They went inside. The music was as loud as any other club he’d infiltrated. The lights were a mesmerizing mix of dark and phosphorescent. He could see guys half-naked, shirtless, and girls dancing shamelessly. There were plenty of couples grinding instead of dancing. In a corner, he saw sofas filled with happy drags, beautifully dressed. Stiles smiled. This looked promising.

He checked out the bar, not for drinks but guys. They seemed ok. Not really what he was looking for though. After a quick scan, he was about to give up and just settle for second best when he saw him. Tall, dark, muscular, and broody in another corner frowning at people. Even though Scott came for him to probably escape Allison’s everything and dragged him towards the bar, Stiles knew that guy would stay in that corner. He could dance and have fun for a little while with his friends, find a second option and then try to convince Mr. Broody to please take him home or fuck him right there and then.

They ordered beers for everyone with Stiles’ fake ID. Then Scott guided him back to the others. They cheered, drank, and emptied their first bottles. Allison pulled Stiles’ arm towards the dance floor. He laughed and pulled Scott behind him.

He had to remember Allison was his cousin each time she moved her hips and breasts against him. He knew she was doing it for Scott, but it was also working a little on him. He twirled her around and pushed her to Scott when he felt arms circling his hips from behind.

Satisfied that Scott saved Allison from being completely glued to his front and that she danced even more tempting with him, Stiles turned to see the guy behind him. Brown hair, nice built, naked chest, dark eyes, interesting smile, good moves. He smiled and let himself be grinded. With hooded eyes, he saw Danny and Isaac getting in close; he smirked interested in that sight. Lydia and Jackson were enjoying themselves. Scott couldn’t keep his hands-off Allison, not that she would let him. All was set.

Stiles refocused on the guy behind him. He wasn’t bad but didn’t exactly fill what he was looking for at the moment. He could do a good third maybe. For now, though, Stiles enjoyed the sinful dancing.

A couple of hours later, Stiles left the dancefloor in time to see Allison steal a kiss from Scott. He hooted happily, sharing a wide grin with Isaac and Danny. Stiles sent his guy towards them. He was ordering water when he felt someone looking at him. He had gotten a lot of looks in there, but this one was more intense. He turned his head left and there, still in his corner, he was met straight on with Tall, Dark, and Broody’s eyes. Stiles smirked and took a sip. TDB followed the movement. After almost drinking half the bottle, Stiles walked confidently and as sexy as he could towards him. He stopped inches from TDB.

He looked a lot better up close. Dark hair, impressive eyebrows, piercing pale eyes, strong cheekbones, and a five o’clock beard Stiles was itching to get all over himself.

“You’re staring,” Stiles blinked up to him.

“You shouldn’t pick tight clothes if you don’t want people to stare.”

“Really? Then why did you dress like that and keep scaring off guys?”

“You noticed.”

Stiles scoffed. “Who wouldn’t notice? Have you seen you? And your clothes?” Stiles licked his lips and gave him a much-needed once-over this close. His shirt was hanging on by a thread to those strong arms.

He shrugged. “You’ve also been rejecting plenty.”

“You noticed too,” he stepped closer, “but I’ve already someone in mind.”

He smirked. “Aren’t you a little young?”

“Are you implying your old?”

“Older.”

“Not much by my guess. Does it matter? Are you an officer of the law?” Stiles let his fingers dance on TDB’s chest and arm. His shirt was soft, his pecs hardened with unaccountable strength.

He huffed. “No, but it does matter.”

“Why?” Stiles batted his eyelashes seductively.

“You look jailbait young.”

Stiles shrugged and smirked. “I’ve been told. But consent is everything. And I am more than willing,” he licked his lips and TDB followed them.

“I could be dangerous,” he whispered lowering a little his head towards Stiles.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Stiles’ teasing fingers on his arm stopped for a moment.

TDB looked him straight in the eyes. “No.” Then he put his hands on Stiles’ hips. Stiles bit his lower lip and smiled. This was going to happen.

“You’re running out of excuses for stalling,” Stiles’ eyes had a mischievous lusty glow.

“Shut up,” he frowned, but there was a twitch of his lips hinting at a smile. They both knew what was coming.

“Make me.” And he did. With his lips.

Stiles felt electrified. Never had someone kissed him like that before. Like they wanted nothing more, or else, than him and him alone. Everything surrounding them disappeared, leaving only the hot warmth of this man. His arms didn’t leave any path to escape, not like Stiles wanted to go anywhere. His lips were all Stiles had dreamed of. Their chests were rubbing. Their pants steadily became a prison.

Stiles came up for air. The music rushed back to his ears the second their lips stopped touching. TDB trailed his lips down Stiles’ neck, nipping hungrily. Stiles moaned and pulled him closer. He had no idea he had a neck kink until that moment. TDB went up to his earlobe. His hands were already underneath Stiles’ shirt.

“I want to fuck you all night long,” he whispered.

Stiles groaned and pulled his lips back on his. After another heated session, he made a slim space between them. Lips barely touching. “Then take me to your bed.”

Stiles could have sworn TDB’s eyes flashed a hungry blue, but the lights hit him at the same time; it had probably been that. He did manage to get a better look at him; at those green-gold-hazel eyes. And damn, Stiles liked what he saw. TDB grabbed his hips, urging him closer to kiss him one more long time, then took his hand and guided him through the crowd. In a matter of seconds, they were outside.

He let TDB pull him to his car, enjoying the view of that ass in those tight jeans. They stopped next to a Camaro. Stiles whistled impressed. Then he bit his lip when TDB opened the door for him and stole another kiss. They shared a heated look before Stiles got fully into the car.

TDB surrounded the car and got into the driver’s seat without taking his eyes off of him. Stiles licked his lips and shivered in anticipation. When he started the car and left the parking lot, Stiles took out his cellphone and texted his friends and dad.

_Getting lucky. See you when I see you._

TDB smirked. “Texting your friends what I look like and my plates in case they never see you again?”

Stiles bit his lip again smothering a smile. “Even though you definitely have a killing glare and a sweet danger vibe going on, which makes you hotter, I’m texting them so _they_ don’t kill me later.” He put his cellphone away and gave another once-over to the man who’d fuck him senseless.

“Like what you see?”

Stiles licked his lips with purpose and put a hand on TDB’s leg, dangerously close to his groin. He saw him gulp and glance at him. “Definitely. How much longer to your place?”

“Not soon enough,” he grumbled with a frown. Stiles let his hand go up and down. He sped up.

Minutes later he parked. They both got out of the car. TDB pushed him against it for more tongue kissing. He locked it and pulled him into the building, never breaking contact with him. When Stiles stumbled on the steps, he picked him up effortlessly. Stiles laughed exhilarated with the weightless feeling and surrounded his waist with his legs, then groaned loudly. TDB was having his way with his neck. Stiles could become addicted to this. Without dropping him, he opened the door to his loft. Stiles’ marveled at the strength of his arms with that move.

He didn’t have time to see the place though, TDB was kissing him again and already moving them towards the bedroom. He let him down in front of the bed and slowed his lips. There was a heavy desire in his eyes. It made Stiles breathe harder. They were undressing him, eating him up. TDB stroked his cheek, a question behind the touch. Stiles shuddered.

“I want you in me.” Stiles pulled them down on the bed. TDB covering him with his delightful warmth. “I want to feel you for days after.” Stiles grabbed his face closely, not quite letting him move. He felt in control. “I want you to fuck me senseless.”

TDB smirked with a clear intent of following through. Yet, before he kissed him, Stiles stopped him a moment. “Wait, wait. Two very important things.” TDB raised an eyebrow and settled on top of him, distracting Stiles with his beautiful hazel eyes and teasing fingers under his shirt. Stiles blinked up. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Tall, Dark, and Broody in my head.”

TDB scowled confused. He looked both intimidatingly hot and cute. Stiles felt flustered and an urge to pinch his cheeks. “I’m not broody,” he grumbled.

Stiles laughed and kissed him. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered and nibbled on TDB’s lower lip. “But I like it. Name?”

Encouraged, TDB leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. “Derek.” He then sucked his earlobe. Stiles groaned.

“Um, I’m Stiles.”

Derek huffed and looked him in the eye with an arched eyebrow, unbelieving. “What kind of name is Stiles?”

Stiles bit his lip. “It’s what I go by since I was like three. My name is a pronunciation monster, everybody butchers it.”

Derek went back to his neck with a huffed chuckle. “Bet I could say it right.” Stiles gasped at the touch of his lips there.

“Could you now? How? You don’t even kno-oh-w in what language it is.” Derek licked slowly his neck and blew on it. Stiles felt Derek’s shrug on his body. After a really nice bite on his neck that made him moan, he said, “Ok, keep that up and I might tell you.”

Derek chuckled again and kissed him deeply. Then he made some space between them. Stiles' hands got stuck in his soft dark hair. “What’s the other thing?”

Stiles frowned. “Huh?” Derek licked his lips, distracting him. He tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge. He was as strong as suggested by the arms, maybe more. Stiles tried to think of his question. What had it been? “Oh! Right. This one’s crucial.” He let his left hand wander down across his chest. “Please tell me you’re clean because I want to feel this,” Stiles squeezed his dick through his pants, making him groan, “in all its glory, without a condom.”

“I have perfect health.”

Stiles grinned and locked his legs around Derek’s hips. “Good.” This time when he pulled him down, Derek went willingly.

Soon Stiles found himself without his shirt and was presented to a slow show of Derek removing his. Stiles groaned loudly and licked his lips. Those abs looked amazing. Even better though was the feeling of skin on skin when he went back on top of him. Derek was warmer than anybody else Stiles had ever been with, but it made Stiles want him more. His skin felt smooth, his chest hair was soft as well, his beard felt delicious and his back muscles shifted with withheld power he was eager to test.

Usually, Stiles would feel somewhat inadequate, but Derek was looking at him like he could and would devour him. Stiles felt desired and wanted. Particularly, when Derek started licking his way down his chest, linking his moles and biting here and there, until he reached his jeans. Torturingly slow he removed them and threw them away.

When Derek came back on top of him, Stiles switched them around. This wasn’t a one-man show, though he wouldn’t complain if Derek decided to do just that. He also wanted to touch and treat him right.

Stiles kissed him ‘til neither could breathe correctly while he unbuttoned his jeans and put a hand in. Derek’s cock felt big, above average, and thick. It made him suck on Derek’s lower lip, earning him almost a growl. Stiles then gave him love bites all over his neck and chest. His hands busied themselves with the task of taking him out of those painted jeans and black briefs. Now and then, Derek would whine or groan, but he moaned loudly when Stiles focused on his nipples.

Once he had Derek completely naked waiting for him to do something, Stiles engulfed his dick in one experienced move, deep throating him with ease, although he couldn’t fit it all. Derek threw his head back in a long groan. Their eyes locked. Stiles’ head and hand bobbed up and down slowly, moaning from time to time. Derek panted slightly, grabbing his hair without pushing him. Stiles now knew the wonders of not having a buzz anymore.

Derek pulled him off his dick to kiss him hungrily. Stiles went happily. Their hands moved over every inch of skin available. Derek finally took off Stiles’ boxer and put him on his stomach. His back was equally smothered as his front had been by kisses and bites. A particularly strong bite on his shoulder made him shout with pleasure. This bite kink was a good new development. All the while Derek massaged his ass, Derek’s tongue traveled from comforting the skin of his shoulder to outline his spine until it reached the edge of his rim.

Stiles was shivering with pleasure and anticipation. He’d never been rimmed before. He was aching for it. Derek bit softly his left cheek. It made him jump and startled a laugh out of him, followed by a loud moan when Derek went to town.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Stiles gripped the sheets and bit down his next moan on a pillow.

Derek pulled his head back by his hair, stopping for a moment to give love to his neck. “I want to hear you.”

Stiles whimpered and nodded. Manhandling was also a welcomed discovery. He was flushed all over thanks to both Derek’s beard and how drowned in lust he was. Derek went back to rimming him. Stiles wouldn’t last long with that. Soon he was thrusting back on Derek’s face, encouraged by the hand on his hip.

At the first hint of a finger joining Derek’s tongue, Stiles yelled out his first orgasm of the night. He fell onto the bed electrified and panting. Derek went up his back with kisses. He’d never come that hard before.

“Good?”

Stiles laughed. “Holy fuck, Derek.” He was kissing his neck again now, his hard-on settling comfortably and hot over his ass. “Give me a minute and I’ll be up again.” Stiles sighed happily. “That was my first rimming experience, dude.”

“Really?” Derek sounded smug while he rummaged somewhere to Stiles’ left.

“Yeah.” Stiles’ licked his lips and peeked over his shoulder as Derek went back to nuzzling his neck and shoulder. For a moment Stiles wondered how could a human being be so cat-like, caring, and attractive. It was adorable. Then he noticed what Derek dropped next to him and smirked. Lube. His dick twitched with renewed interest. The night was far from over.

He half-turned to tongue kiss Derek. He was becoming enchanted by his lips, perhaps him completely. Then he pushed the bottle of lube purposefully into Derek’s hand. He took the hint.

With patience Stiles couldn’t believe the man was using with that boner, Derek fingered him until he was again hard, trembling and breathing heavily. When he was up to four fingers, Stiles panted out a question.

“How do you want me?”

Derek sucked on where his neck met shoulder making him groan. “Like this.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think I’ll be able to hold my own weight in my arms.”

Stiles saw him smirk and his eyes glinted with a challenge. “I can hold you just fine.” He pulled Stiles’ upper body, flushing him up against his chest. Then in one slow move entered him. Stiles’ moan was silent this time around. He let his head fall back on Derek’s shoulder.

“Oh my- fuck. _Derek_.”

He hadn’t felt this full with anyone else, not even his dildo. Derek kept him up with an arm across his torso and a hand on his hip. He was pinned against him. Stiles felt enveloped and didn’t want to leave this warm sensation ever. Much less with such a great dick inside him. He grabbed onto Derek’s arm, gripped his muscular thigh, and circled his hips. It was all Derek needed to start moving.

He began slow and deep. Drawing exquisite sounds from Stiles. But before long he was pounding into him. Stiles’ moans echoed around. The hand on Derek’s arm went up to Derek’s hair as Derek grunted and sucked on Stiles’ neck.

A primal groan left Derek when he came inside Stiles. And Stiles came as hard as the first time with Derek’s warm hand around his length. He was still making small thrusts as Stiles came down from his high. When Stiles went limp against him, Derek gave one more nip to his shoulder and arranged them on the bed. With care, he exited Stiles and went for a washcloth.

Stiles breathed heavily against the sheets, trying to reclaim his brain after it got fucked out of his system. Derek came back after cleaning himself. He passed the washcloth over Stiles’ body, making him hum in satisfaction. Kisses and warm hands were trailing up and down. After Derek put his cellphone on his nightstand and removed the stained bedsheet, he settled against a pillow. Stiles turned to him, seeking his warmth, and took his face between his hands to kiss him as if there wasn’t anything else he’d prefer to be doing. It might be true. It was fast becoming his favorite activity in Beacon Hills.

Derek had a question in his eyes when they came up for air. Stiles pecked him and entangled their legs. That was all Derek needed as an answer. Stiles felt him relax. He let sleep take him under with a satisfied smile.

*

Sunlight filled the room slowly, making Stiles stir from his pleasant sleep. His eyes fluttered open. He stretched slightly and felt the arm embracing his waist tighten. The first thing he saw was Derek’s chest. He bit his lower lip and looked up. Derek looked even more handsome in daylight. His dark eyelashes looked beautiful against his cheekbones. Stiles committed to memory his strong jaw, thick eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, and overall beauty.

Stiles’ morning wood twitched. He looked back down. Derek too had a morning boner. He grinned. Time to wake up for everyone involved then. He reached back for the lube and found it. He poured some on his fingers and started to open himself up as quietly as possible. He was a little sore, but quickly he was up to three. The incoming pleasure would be worth it. He stopped then and kissed his way down Derek’s chest. Slow, Derek started waking up. He frowned a moment, then let out a soft sigh when Stiles licked his nipple and caressed his leg.

Stiles left all pretense behind and bit his hip bone. That earned him a low groan. When he looked up, Derek was staring at him with hooded pale hazel eyes and a lopsided smile. He grinned too and climbed up again to kiss him, letting their boners touch one another. Their tongues kissed while Stiles straddled him and got in position.

“Morning,” Stiles whispered against his lips and putting his dick against his entrance. He nibbled Derek’s lip and sat up.

“Wait. I haven’t-” Derek tried to sit as well.

Stiles smirked and pushed him back down. “Way ahead of you, sleepyhead.” Derek stifled a groan as he felt Stiles’ hole all lubed up.

Deliberately, Stiles dragged it on inch by inch. Derek shuddered underneath him with the effort of not taking him in one move. His hands wandered all over Stiles’ back, hips and legs. When he finally bottomed out, they were both panting.

Stiles was about to start circling his hips and riding him when a phone rang. “Fuck,” Derek hit the pillow with the back of his head and squeezed Stiles’ hips. “That’s mine.”

“Leave it,” Stiles said and moved.

Derek licked his lips and stared transfixed at Stiles’ slow movements. “I can’t. It’s my sister,” he groaned when Stiles raised himself a little. “I haven’t seen her in weeks. If I don’t answer, she’ll come knock down my door.”

Stiles pouted and sat on Derek’s dick. “Fine. Answer. But I’m staying right here.”

Derek nodded and sat up. He embraced Stiles a moment, kissed him hard and long, while he reached out a hand for his cellphone. “Just don’t move.”

Stiles’ eyes glinted. “I’ll try.”

Derek cleared his throat, let himself fall against the pillow, and gave Stiles a once-over. Just as he picked up the call, Stiles rode him once fast. Derek bit his hand and groaned into the phone.

_“What? Did I wake you?”_

Derek breathed deeply and gripped Stiles’ hips with one hand. He glared, but the flush on his cheeks made it lose its strength. Stiles bit his lip and shrugged. Derek swallowed another groan at the sight. He licked his lips eating up Stiles with his eyes.

“Something like that.”

_“You never sleep in. Did you stay up late? Did something happen?”_

“I was up late, yeah.” Stiles smothered his giggle. “Nothing bad, promise.”

_“What was that?”_

Derek panicked for a moment and made Stiles a quiet motion. Stiles bit his lip and nodded. “A squirrel.” Stiles narrowed his eyes and circled his hips with purpose. Derek’s mouth fell open in a silent moan. “What do you want, Laur?”

With his hand, he tried to stop Stiles, but he wasn’t really trying. Stiles kept on circling his hips and started riding him slowly, without raising himself much. He licked his lips and stared down at Derek. He stared right back.

_“To remind you of brunch. You’re coming, right?”_

“Right. Coming. ” Stiles smirked at him. “Brunch. See you there.” He hung up and threw his phone away. He gripped Stiles’ hips, raised him high, and brought him down hard. Stiles gasped. Derek sat up and kissed him. Stiles moved faster on his own, riding him like he wanted to. “You’re a menace.”

Stiles embraced his neck, held on to his soft hair, and panted. “What are you going to do about it?”

Derek surrounded him with one arm and took his hip with the other. Then with a hard kiss, he flipped them over and thrusted hard once more. “This.”

Stiles moaned out loud and hugged him with his legs. Derek took his hands and pinned them above his head. He raised him with the hand on his hip and pounded into him. Stiles arched his back and panted out more moans.

Soon, Derek freed his hands to lift him completely and fuck up into him. Stiles held on to his shoulders and moaned against his neck. Like this, the friction on his dick was delicious and Derek was hitting dead-on his prostate with each thrust. Stiles’ bitten nails scratched Derek’s back and grabbed his hair. Derek impossibly sped up. Stiles wailed. All of him clenched and trembled as his orgasm was worked through by Derek’s frenzied thrusts. He was close. He made small little grunts that Stiles sealed within his mind. As the tension left Stiles, Derek hugged him tighter and released his load with a low groan.

Once he stopped and shivered a couple of times, instead of falling with Stiles against the bed, he put them both down slowly. He stayed inside of him, head on Stiles’ shoulder and breathing hard.

Stiles kissed his forehead and stroked his hair and beard. He was marveled with Derek. Their eyes met. He looked dazed. Stiles kissed him softly. He was pretty sure no other lay would be as amazing as everything he’d done with Derek so far. If Stiles had his way, and he was planning to, this situation, Derek himself, would become a fixture in his life.

Derek settled his head against Stiles’ heart. He kept on stroking his hair, yet his curiosity was waking up too. Derek was already a mystery Stiles wanted to take his time to figure out. “What’s it like to have a sister?”

Derek groaned and hid his face in his neck. “Let’s not talk about her while I’m inside you.”

“But you already talked with her while you were inside me,” he grinned cheekily.

Derek grumbled into his neck. “And I hope she never finds out or she’ll never let me live it down.”

Stiles laughed, then nudged him. “Come on, what’s it like? I don’t have any siblings.”

“It’s insufferable. They both are, but…” he raised his head and looked at him straight. “I’d do _anything_ for them.”

Stiles hummed and touched his cheek. “Then they’re not so bad.” Stiles kissed him again, taking his time savoring Derek. “How much time do we have before you go for brunch?”

Derek turned his head to the window, trying to estimate what time it was. Stiles appreciated the view. The light hitting Derek’s sweaty body made him look ethereal. An unknown tingle started in Stiles’ stomach, traveled to his chest, and pulled at his heartstrings. Stiles licked his lips, drawing back Derek’s attention. “About an hour.”

“And you probably need to shower,” Stiles hummed pretending to think when he already knew what he wanted. “We should make it count,” he whispered before pulling Derek’s lips back on his.

Derek bit his lip as he exited, distracting him from any possible discomfort. Then he helped him stand. Stiles went along and let himself be dragged towards the bathroom. There was a tattoo between Derek’s shoulder blades, and his ass looked even better in the waking nude. Being sore never felt so great.

Derek let go of his hand to warm the shower. Stiles embraced him from behind and traced the tattoo with his lips, leaving a kiss at its center. “What is it?”

Derek turned around and tugged him into his arms, then under the spray. “It’s a triskelion.”

“That’s Celtic, right? Something about spirit and growth?” Stiles searched his brain. He’d seen that or read about it somewhere.

“Yeah, something like that.” He started soaping up Stiles’ body. Stiles closed his eyes to enjoy it.

“But, to you, what is it?” Stiles took the soap from him and let his hands wash away Derek’s sweat. There was a brief silence, yet when Stiles looked up and met Derek’s wondering eyes, he answered.

“Past, Present, and Future.” Stiles shampooed his head, pulling at his hair from time to time. By Derek’s groan, he liked it too. “To remind me of who I’ve been, what I’ve done, and what is to come.”

“Wouldn’t it have been better to have it on the front? So, you could see it and remember it better?” Stiles helped Derek get the soap and shampoo off.

Derek shrugged and rinsed Stiles’ body, then massaged his head far better than Stiles had done to him. “Maybe. But I know it’s there. It serves its purpose.”

Stiles hummed, then stared at him from under his eyelashes. “Did it hurt?”

“Some. Why?” Derek searched his eyes again and pulled him close to his body. “You want one?”

Stiles laughed. “G’s, no. I’m terrified of needles. I’d pass out at the first sound. I _have_ blacked out just by looking at videos of tattoo making. I once considered it, though.”

Derek kissed him sweetly, taking Stiles’ mind off of the time he had argued heatedly with both his mother and Raphael about getting a tattoo with his mom’s name or something about her at least. Derek managed to change his mood entirely when his hand traveled down to his butt cheek.

“If I hadn’t been fucked twice in mere hours, I would be urging you to fuck me against the bathroom’s wall,” Derek grunted, his hands squeezed him. “You can totally do it, can’t you? G’s, what do you even eat to get this pleasantly big and strong?”

Derek smirked. “Next time.” Stiles’ heart raced with excitement. He grinned and grabbed Derek’s ass. Then guided his lips back on his. He was never getting tired of this.

“For now, though, we still have some time, huh?” Stiles’ hand traveled from Derek’s ass to his dick, groping it and giving it a few tugs. Derek’s hand joined him there and enveloped Stiles’ dick as well.

They panted into each other’s mouths, quickly reaching their crescendos. Once they both released their loads, they kept on kissing under the shower, letting the water wash it away. Stiles felt his heart do a fluttering movement and his stomach a flip. This was no regular hook-up. He could feel it was something else with the potential of more. What surprised him, though, was how eager he wanted it to be more. He’d never felt like this before.

Reluctantly, Derek turned off the shower and lead him back to the room. With wandering hands, they dressed each other, almost going back down on the bed more than once. Stiles got a glimpse of the loft before Derek guided him outside to the car.

“Can I get you somewhere?” he asked as he opened his door.

Stiles answered once Derek was behind the wheel. “I left my car back in Jungle. So, there, if you can? I’ll drive myself home.”

Derek’s right hand settled on his leg. He drove much slower this time around. Stiles let his hand on top of his, wondering if this was different for Derek too. Some five minutes later, they were parking next to his jeep.

Derek turned off the car. Stiles reached out to kiss him again. There was a bit of urgency, but he managed to bring it down to a slow long pace. When they pulled back, Stiles nibbled Derek’s lower lip.

“Give me your phone,” Stiles demanded in a sultry voice. Derek complied. Stiles punched in his number and saved himself to contacts as ‘Stiles my hottie’, while Derek nuzzled his neck. He gave it back and kissed him again, tempted to climb onto his lap. As he came up for air, he whispered, “You better call me, Derek. I want to do what we did again and more.”

Derek kissed him hungrily. “I will,” he promised. Then his cell rang again with his sister’s tone. He rolled his eyes.

Stiles sighed and let go of him. “I’ll be thinking about you. Don’t leave me hanging,” he said before getting out. He walked to his jeep backward, trying to get Derek’s whole self as much as he could. Then started up his car and went home. He could see Derek’s Camaro going the other way in the rearview.

At home, his dad was preparing a healthy meal for both of them. He whistled when he saw Stiles coming in. “I’d ask how it went, but, one, I don’t want to hear the details and, two, the hickeys on your neck are more than enough information. Want a salad and plain grilled chicken?”

Stiles smiled hugely. “Sure thing, pops.” Beacon Hills was amazing.

Unfortunately, his dad had a morning-evening shift. Therefore, Stiles texted Lydia for something to do. Two hours later after playing Xbox and waiting for an answer, Lydia said she, Allison, and Danny were having a movie-night without Jackson and the others to gossip freely about their significant others. He was wholeheartedly invited. Stiles whooped and drove following her directions on his phone. When he got there, the wine was coming out and movies were being judged and downloaded.

“Someone had quite a night,” whistled Danny. Stiles grinned and winked.

“Fuck yeah! It was mind-blowing.”

“Do spill,” said Allison blushing slightly.

“All the dirty details, please. We live for this,” said Lydia.

Stiles chuckled. These people were awesome. “I’m not saying his name. You probably know him, and I want to keep him for myself as long as I can.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Danny for all.

“You guys have no idea how _hot_ he is,” Stiles licked his lips as he traced Derek’s whole body in his mind. “He was blessed by all gods, goddesses, and divinities out there with the most beautiful features and body. I can’t decide if his dick or his ass, or his _eyes_ , are the best part.”

“Damn it, I want to know who he is,” complained Allison.

“More than Jackson?” asked Lydia.

“Way more!”

“You’re biased,” Danny narrowed his eyes and passed him a glass of wine.

“Not at all, dude. I have seen pretty people in my life. You all make it to the top of the list until him. He is the list now.”

“Someone has a crush,” teased Allison and tickled him on his ribs.

Stiles took a sip and chuckled. It was good wine. “Maybe,” then he bit his lip. “It didn’t feel like a hook-up, you know? We fucked three times.”

Allison gasped. “Well, that’s a perfectly good amount for an amazing night,” said Danny. Lydia nodded.

“I know, but- it was all hot and amazing, sure, but it had sweet touches. He was rough and tender. I stayed over, we slept, and showered together. See what I mean?”

Lydia hummed. “Yes. That’s not hook-like.”

“Exactly! Danny, you know this. Usually, it is either a blow job or a fast wang-bang-thank-you-man, right?” Danny nodded. “And I was left not only wanting more fucking, which would have definitely happened if he hadn’t been called away by his sister, but I’m also eager to know him. His family, where he works, what he likes to do, to read, to eat—besides my ass, of course.”

“Stiles!” Allison laughed and slapped his leg. “Did you fall in love?!”

“Probably, yeah,” he smiled into his wine, confirming that the mushy feeling inside his chest was more than just a crush. “That’s a thing, right? I know nothing about him and yet I want to see him smile because of me again.”

“Well, it’s rom-com material, that’s for sure.”

“If you give us his name, we could find all that,” Danny wiggled his eyebrows.

“Nope. I zip my mouth on the matter, good sir,” he bowed and raised his glass. They clanked, drank, and laughed. “Ally! Do tell what went on after you stole Scott a kiss?”

“Yes, you two disappeared on all of us,” Lydia refilled her glass.

Allison bit her lip and toyed with her hair. “Well, we kissed some more, of course. And, I don’t know. Something snapped free from him. He didn’t want to let me go, but didn’t want to rush it, you know? So, he’s taking me out tomorrow.”

“Not today?” frowned Stiles.

“No. Today is his monthly outing with his family.”

“But Melissa has a night-shift.”

“His other family,” Allison cleared. “He’s very close to the Hales, Isaac, and Jackson. They’ve helped each other through tough spots, so they drop everything once a month and gather.”

“Oh, that explains a lot about the people here in this gossip tradition.”

“Yeah,” shrugged Danny. “It’s something to do.”

“Have you picked your outfit?” asked Lydia.

“Yes, yes. I followed your advice and got that skirt.” Lydia nodded satisfied and turned to Danny.

“You and Isaac at it again, eh?”

He shrugged. “Well, you know how it is. When I’m boyfriend-less,” he turned to explain to Stiles, “and Isaac doesn’t feel brave enough to pursue Cora, we fumble around and let go of some steam. Though that’s probably why she doesn’t let him in.”

“Has he tried at all to go out with her?”

“No,” Lydia shook her head. “Cora has never shown interest, you know? She’s like that. So, he doesn’t feel confident enough to make a move.”

“I see,” whispered Stiles, already thinking how to taste the waters with Cora and help Isaac out.

Danny checked on the laptop then. “Movies are ready, people!”

They settled against Lydia’s soft bed and began watching the _Before Midnight_ trilogy. Even though it was an enticing set of films, Stiles was occasionally distracted by the howling winds outside. It was odd. There was no rain and it sounded awfully like wolves. Stiles shrugged it off each time thinking maybe that was how it was out here where there were no city noises, and because of his researched knowledge: there were no wolves in California.


	5. Chapter 5

# 5

Stiles left early Lydia’s place and gave Allison a lift. His dad made them dinner and they chatted happily about nothing and everything while they watched a game. Then, they both went to their respective rooms.

Stiles checked his phone. There was nothing. Maybe it was too soon for him to be calling, right? If it were up to Stiles, he would have already called for an amazing second night of sex. But it wasn’t up to him. He had left that decision in Derek’s hands. He could be busy or sleeping or doing anything. Stiles knew nothing and he was dying to fix that. The day had kept him distracted a little at least.

He sighed and charged it. He needed a good night's sleep for his run with Cora.

*

Erica wasn’t there for their pancake breakfast. He would have loved how she would have teased him for the hickeys. Still, it was quite delicious and comfortable. The sheriff again had a morning shift, though he gave him a lift to where he was meeting Cora.

While he waited, Stiles took the time to appreciate the woods up close again. They eased the jittery energy inside him. They filled him, almost as good as Derek had the night before. He blushed. He felt it was almost perverse to compare them, but both made him feel good in different ways. Both made him feel complete.

Cora was left off by Laura. She honked and waved making Cora grumble under her breath and Stiles laugh. She scowled at him, frowned at his neck.

“Is that from Jungle or did someone attack you?”

“Jungle,” he reminisced, but aware that his cellphone still didn’t show texts or missed calls. It was too early in the day after all.

She nodded and cracked her neck. “Well then, you had your fun. It’s time to suffer.”

He smiled. “I don’t think this will be torture. I like jogging and the woods.”

“Then you better keep up.”

Stiles indeed kept up with her. Her pace was punishing but nothing out of this world. They took breaks every fifteen minutes or so. Stiles took that time to recover his breathing and fill his lungs with the scent of the woods. They hadn’t come across many animals, given how used these trails seemed. It was obvious he wouldn’t get lost here. As they took the fourth break, a curious rabbit stared at them.

“Hey there,” Stiles greeted and crouched to see it better.

“Allison did not joke when she said you attract the wilderness.”

He smiled and cooed as the rabbit sniffed his hand. “Yeah. Oh, I forgot to ask. Do raccoons usually block paths?”

She stared at him, confused, while he scratched its belly. “What? No. They keep to themselves and avoid people.”

“Huh.” Then it was weird. “Well, one with the help of a squirrel wouldn’t let me go through to a clearing. It was obviously not the way to my place, _and_ it led me back home.”

“That _is_ weird, but I doubt it’ll happen again if you keep to these trails instead of just running in blind,” she rolled her eyes.

“Right.” He bit his lip and let the rabbit go. It wouldn’t be as magical, though. He kind of wanted to see what was so special about that clearing.

“Come on. One more and we’re going back.”

He nodded and followed her.

When his dad picked him up later, he was in need of a good shower. So was Cora. She had pushed him harder on the way back. Stiles could feel the soreness of his activities with Derek blending in with the ache of a good run.

After a meal and a shower, he decided to tackle his homework. It would be an attempt to distract his brain from his silent phone. It was plenty of work to do. Stiles kept at it with unbelievable focus. However, that night he dreamt about Derek fucking him in his bathroom.

*

On Monday, his hickeys were still visible. Scott whistled. Though he had no leverage for teasing him as Allison came to peck him on the cheek and he was lost in a dreamy fog all day. Stiles mocked him.

He too kept on fantasizing with Derek, reliving that day, relishing each detail. Though when he stopped and checked his phone, he started wondering what went wrong, and the cycle began again. Whenever he had the chance, he daydreamed about him out loud to Lydia. She loved hearing all the little details Stiles focused on. Then, she eased his worries and confirmed how amazing it sounded it had been.

On Tuesday, Allison distracted him by planning an afternoon of cookie baking. It worked somehow. She was indeed awful in the kitchen. So, Stiles had to pay attention to what both of them were doing. A couple of times the flour had ended on the floor and their hair. However, the cookies were a success. Scott approved.

By Wednesday, though, the silence went back to haunt him. Lydia and Isaac tried to keep him engaged in conversation whenever they saw him look at his phone or frown at the windows. Still, he refused to say his name and hunt him down online. He was a little afraid of what he might find. He decided it was better to enjoy his friends’ company and focus on lacrosse. Moreover, he refused to believe it’d end as a one-night stand. Derek would call. It was just a matter of time and patience. Stiles had time. Patience was going to be harder.

Distractions and keeping himself busy helped a lot. The announcement of his first game on Friday had him a little hyped. With that energy, he convinced his dad to take him on patrol for his night shift. The sheriff was amazed how the arguments on Stiles’ favor were coming out from his son’s mouth like practiced monologue when it was improvised.

While they were dining out of diet (curly fries for everyone involved, Stiles felt like indulging), a call came through the police scanner. The dead body of a girl had been discovered on the woods’ edges. It was only the lower half.

Stiles turned to his dad with his eyes wide open. “Oh, my Goddesses. Please let me help! I promise I won’t disturb anything and you will need more bodies to increase the search party. Please, please, please? I let you eat curly fries today!”

The sheriff chuckled and shook his head. “If you don’t go with me, will you stay put at home?” Stiles bit his lip and shook his head in denial. He preferred to look for a dead body than keep staring at his silent phone. The sheriff sighed. “Thought so. Bribery won’t get you far, but it’ll work today. Better that you go with me or one of my deputies, than on your own or, worse, with Scott or Allison.”

Stiles hooped and cheered. He texted Scott and Allison the news as his dad turned on the siren and drove to the meeting place. _Dude, I’m going on a quest for a dead body with my dad! Sorry for the girl, but BH is awesome!_ Scott’s answer was short but to the point. _You’re weird. Allison says to be careful._

He grinned. Those two hit it off. Stiles was happy for them. When they arrived, there were three other police cars. Parrish and Boyd were among the officers talking next to the yellow tape.

“Deputies, are we all set?”

“Yes, sheriff,” Parrish raised an eyebrow at Stiles’ figure. “Hi, Stiles?” He waved and smiled.

“Well, we’ll spread out in pairs as usual. Jordan, do you mind if Stiles is your partner?”

“No, sir. It’s okay.”

“Thank you. He’d have tagged along if I hadn’t brought him.”

“Damn right, Pops.” They split. Parrish and he went to the left. The sheriff in the middle with Boyd. The others split to the wider right. “So, what am I looking out for exactly? Was she pale, Caucasian, blonde, African-American? Do you think she’ll be on the floor or hanging somewhere?”

Parrish just shook his head, unbelieving Stiles’ enthusiasm and inquiry of details. “Watch your step. Caucasian. Most likely on the floor.”

They went on a while. The chirping of the woods was different at night, he noticed. They stopped every few meters or so to look through bushes better, but nothing came up. The policemen chatter on Parrish’s radio filled their silence. Parrish was looking through a thick bush on the right while Stiles looked over a small cliff when his lantern shined on something.

“Hey, Parrish? I think there’s something down heeeeeee-!” The rocks beneath his feet came loose and made him fall. He landed with a harsh crash, one of his hands on something a little wet and cold. He gulped. His lantern was trapped on one of the cliff’s roots. With dread, he took out his phone and illuminated his right side.

His hand was touching the top half of the dead girl. He scrambled backward. Parrish’s light shone upon him.

“Stiles?! Stiles, are you okay?!”

He breathed deeply. A panic attack right then and there was _not_ a good idea. His dad didn’t know he had them, or, well, used to have them. It’s been a long time since his last. He definitely couldn’t find out like this.

“I’m fine!” he yelled back. “Um! I found the other part though!”

“Ok! Don’t move! I’ll call it in, ask for back-up, and secure the perimeter! Hold still!” he reminded before Stiles heard him talking on the radio.

Stiles steadied his breathing and looked around him. She had probably fallen here too. Maybe even broke a leg and couldn’t escape from a bear or mountain lion. There weren’t other obvious difficult places like the cliff, or at least his phone’s light didn’t show them. It was hard to penetrate this darkness.

Suddenly he became aware of the silence. The chirping and hoots were gone. Parrish’s radio chatter was too far to be heard. A twig snapped to his left. A blur passed by. Another raccoon maybe? He gulped and bit his lip. Not likely. It looked bigger. He was so focused on trying to see through a shadow he was sure wasn’t there before that he was surprised by the soft bark behind him. Stiles yelped and flailed around to illuminate a wolf.

Stiles put a hand over his heart and corrected himself. No wolves in California, therefore it was a hybrid. A huge hybrid dog with wonderful electric blue eyes. Its nose was close to the ground, asking permission to come closer. Stiles let out a shuddering breath.

“Hey, big guy, you shouldn’t be roaming the woods at night.” It came closer as Stiles stretched his trembling hand. It made a show of sniffing him, then sat comfortably next to him and pushed at its hand. It wanted some petting.

Stiles laughed and petted him. “You’re beautiful. What are you doing out here?” Another twig snapped and he jumped. The dog shoved him softly and demanded of him to resume the petting. “Sorry, sorry. You’re bossy for a dog, but I’m happy you’re here now. I was starting to see things.” He laughed at himself. “Though the body is awfully real.”

He worried his lower lip, wondering if Parrish was okay. The dog pushed at Stiles’ head with his wet nose, rubbing at his neck. Stiles chuckled and gripped his fur tighter when several twigs snapped. The dog gave a step back as lights came from the top of the cliff.

“You’re going now? Don’t you want help going home?” Stiles could have sworn the dog scoffed. It bumped its nose against Stiles’ chest. He sighed. “Fine. Go. Thank you for staying with me.” Stiles kissed its head and let him go.

“Stiles?!” His dad called out.

“In here! Alive and kicking! All my limbs attached, but maybe with scratches!”

The deputies laughed. “A team is coming down! Just wait a little longer, okay?!”

“Not running off, got it!”

When Stiles looked back to see the dog, it was long gone.

*

Stiles had to reign in the excitement of his adventures as he told his friends about the body and the dog at lunch the next day. A beloved girl had died. She had been in middle school. It had still been an interestingly good night.

What did damp his mood was the lack of notifications on his phone and giving up running in the woods for the time being. An investigation was on-going and the woods were the prime zone of danger right now. Still, the lacrosse strategizing meeting and impromptu training kept him busy. It seemed like Coach had them memorizing the new names for the plays all evening. Stiles doubted he’d remember them during the game, much less when Coach kept calling him Bilinski. Though it did help with that night. He kept on chanting them in his dreams instead of fantasizing with Derek.

On Friday the whole school was hyped and the hickeys were gone. The game was on their field. People he’d never said hello to were encouraging him throughout the day. The team moved like one the whole day. A tuning method Coach was trying pre-game.

Stiles tried not to let his sad theories about Derek cloud his focus. Scott and Jackson helped a lot by giving him tips and intel on the other team and its main players. Soon enough it was time to change in the locker room. Stiles was excited to receive his uniform along with a strange pre-game blessing speech from _Independence Day_.

“He gives the same speech before every game,” whispered Isaac to him. “You’ll get used to it, even memorize it.” He pointed at two other players repeating the words on time under their breath.

Stiles chuckled and let the speech pump him up even more. Then Coach yelled out the names of the starting players. His was among them. Scott bumped their fists together and smiled broadly.

Stiles used the rest of the list to text his dad. _I’m starting tonight at the game!!_ A few minutes later, his dad answered. _Good luck! I’m on my way._ Finally, some nerves appeared. He breathed deeply. This was his first lacrosse game and his dad was going to be there to watch him. He couldn’t fuck this up.

Scott bumped into him. “We’ve got this.”

There was such confidence coming off of Scott, such security and trust in his eyes toward Stiles, he couldn’t help feeling some of it himself. “Yeah. We’ll kick their asses.”

“Damn right,” Jackson shouted. “We are Beacon Hills and nothing beats us down!” The whole team made a raucous roar.

It was time to begin.

Walking on that field felt different from training. There was a red and white crowd on the bleaches, shouting and cheering them on. Stiles tried to spot his dad, but it was hard among all the people there. A familiar head stood out. His heartbeat accelerated as he thought it was Derek’s. The person moved and it was not Derek. Stiles huffed and shook his head. He was seeing things now.

“They’re there,” Scott pointed out. And yeah. Right in the top middle, there was Melissa, Allison, Lydia, and his dad. Stiles waved at them and they whistled and cheered louder.

“It is time, boys!” Coach bellowed. He stood over the bench, Greenberg looked up, worried he might fall, and grabbed his legs. Coach pointed out to the field, where the other team was waiting. “Go massacre them!”

All team players exchanged good luck hits on the back, then ran out to meet the other team. Stiles and Scott grinned wildly at each other.

The whistle was blown.

Jackson took the ball first and passed it on to Isaac, who moved swiftly and fast. Then, when Kira was in position, he made a practiced twist and passed it to her. Kira caught it mid-air and shoot. The goalie had no chance against her aim. Scott had explained it to Stiles. Kira, like Cora, practiced martial arts but with swords. She was one of the most agile on the team.

The crowd went wild and Stiles couldn’t help celebrating it either. Scott jumped along with him and then pushed him into position. They were coming.

The guy that was running straight to them somehow passed both Isaac and Jackson. It was up to Scott and Stiles to put him down. Stiles inhaled deeply and pinpointed Scott’s location, never taking his eyes off the guy. He had skidded in between Isaac and Jackson and was faster than Kira. But he would not pass him. They locked eyes.

Stiles felt Scott get near to tackle a guy that was coming for Stiles, and left the important block to him. The guy feinted left and Stiles saw it a mile away. Stiles timed it right. He let his right shoulder fall just when the guy was switching ways and sent him over his own back, where Scott was back up and ready to keep him down.

The guy had no idea what happened. Stiles snatched up the ball and gave it to Liam. Scott high-fived him.

For the first part of the game, no one passed them and they managed to score one more point. The enemy’s defense was improving their set up and made sure to intercept passes, instead of trying to block and cover players all the time.

During the pause, Coach congratulated them and yelled he wanted to see more of them out there. He wanted to crush them entirely and to be afraid of coming near Danny’s goal.

However, during the second part, the other team made some changes to their players. There were some new guys that looked way too muscled for lacrosse. One of them tried Stiles’ move on Liam and ended up crushing his foot. Liam fell down and couldn’t move his right ankle. He had to be removed and Greenberg came in. That was a serious hit on their offense.

Isaac and Jackson were straining without Liam. Kira was being well blocked by a tall guy who followed her everywhere. And the muscled guys were coming Stiles’ and Scott’s way. His previous move wouldn’t work on them. Scott was being kept busy. Isaac wouldn’t get there on time. Stiles was alone against him, but he didn’t saw the other one coming. That one managed to throw Stiles down right before he would steal the ball.

The air left his lungs as the guy used him to get himself off the ground. He heard the scoring bell as they baited Danny out. As he got up, Stiles counted the chances in his head and pictured the plays. If he drew the attention unexpectedly away from his key-players, they could score the sealing point. Scott came to his side and helped him up the rest of the way.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” he palmed him on the shoulder. “I got an idea. Can you handle for a minute the defense alone?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing with Greenberg?” They laughed. “I got this. Go help them up a sec.” He turned. “Greenberg! Get back here!”

Stiles grinned. They made up a defensive triangle. Stiles on point, Greenberg, and Scott spread apart. Right when Isaac was running to steal the ball, Stiles yelled at him. “Isaac, here and switch!”

Isaac nodded. He managed to drop, steal, roll up, and run to Stiles. The guys tailing him were thrown off and ran after him. Isaac passed it on to Stiles and stopped. Somehow, he managed to make those two fall. Stiles sprinted, taking advantage of the open space Isaac made. Jackson was trying to lose his tail, so was Kira. A muscled one was coming for him. Kira’s guy was tall. Stiles sped up toward his guy, confusing him, and winked. He twirled and made a low-angled throw to Kira. She got it before he finished twisting. He bumped against the guy and was heavily crushed down. But the bell rang one last time.

The crowd went wilder than before. The whistle blew again. They won.

Coach jumped up and down next to a hurt Liam. But, hurt and all, he too was jumping on one leg. The dominance shown in the first game would set the pace for the rest of their games.

The guy on top of him cursed and left. Stiles grinned. As he was getting up, the team ran at him and crushed him again. He laughed.

“Woo-hoo, Stiles!” Scott hugged him. “I knew you were meant for this team!”

“Nice throw!” Kira yelled in his ear.

“Damn, I don’t think I’d have caught that!” Isaac said. Jackson patted him and kept nodding. Greenberg raised his stick happily. Liam hopped and congratulated him too.

“That just means we gotta practice it!” Coach laughed manically. “Go take off your sweaty uniforms! See you Monday, brats! Don’t party too hard! We got a whole season ahead of us!”

“How did you even make that throw? Or thought about it?” Scott asked as they walked back to the lockers.

“Easy. Kira is small and her guy was taller, way taller. How long would it take him to crouch and grab it when Kira is already there? She is flexible and agile. And I have a lifetime of practice throwing things.”

“Really?” Isaac seemed dubious.

Stiles giggled. “I used to throw knives at things and imagined myself as part of a circus. Never tried it with a stick and ball before, though. But if the stick is an extension of my arm, like you guys said, and my arm has good aim, it was doable.”

“I can picture you in a circus,” Jackson mocked him. Stiles pushed him. “Still, good thinking. They had us in almost a corner and you managed to find the spot they missed.”

Stiles beamed. This felt way better than winning races. As they showered, Kira in the girl’s locker room, of course, they all got a text from Lydia. _Celebratory pool party tomorrow at noon._

Stiles went to have a celebratory dinner with his dad, Melissa, Scott, and Allison. Her parents, Kate, and Gerard had gone to the game but had some work to do early the next day, so they didn’t go to the dinner. All the better for Stiles.

They chatted and laughed and recounted every detail of the game. Noah’s puffed out chest shone with pride and his smile had everyone congratulating them, even if the news hadn’t reached them yet. Melissa too was a happy mamma and showered both of them with hugs. Allison never let go of Scott’s arm and his smile was huge for the game and her. It was a good night.

Sleep claimed him deeply that night, tired as Stiles was. The only thing that would have made the perfect night, would have been a small text.

*

The next day Stiles awoke barely on time for the party. His dad saw him off with another congratulating hug.

It looked like the whole school had been invited. Everyone was there. From people he didn’t know to his now close friends. He smiled and greeted people he hadn’t even seen at school before. For ten long hours, they partied, even Liam with his cast. Stiles wrestled on the pool with Isaac, Danny, Malia, and Cora for a long time. He had some infiltrated beers and let himself soak the school happiness.

The whole swimming, dancing, and singing out loud in the impromptu karaoke tired him out more than the game. When he came back home, he hugged his dad goodbye as he was going to his late shift, and went straight to bed. He was asleep before hitting the pillow.

It was the middle of the night when a noise woke him. His dad was still out on shift, exchanging hypothesis with his deputies. He was alone in the house. He scrubbed at his eyes and got up. As he got near his door, he heard it again. The small cringe of an opened door that should have been close. The mute step that was loud in the dead of night.

Someone was inside the house.

Stiles couldn’t believe it. He was new to town but it was pretty common knowledge to whom this house belonged to. It was a really stupid move to rob the sheriff’s house, even if he was out. The news of Stiles’ arrival was old gossip now. It was also known that the house was never empty anymore.

Stiles grabbed his bat, resting near the closet. Old NY experience surfacing against robbing. He was going to grab his cell phone and text his dad, but the steps were closer now. Heavy. Stiles readied his grip. If the guy was big, and by the sound of it he was, he needed to land a well-aimed struck to his head first. Rapha’s training came to his mind. He had no knives nor guns, but he had strength in his arms. If he used his legs too, and he would, his blow could be quite powerful.

Unfortunately, Stiles had gotten used to sleeping with his door open here. He didn’t have those precious seconds on his side. Where had his New York seventeen-year-old survival instincts gone? Beacon Hills was so peaceful, he felt so much at ease here. Though it would not stop his defense now.

Stiles was more than ready when it entered. But he froze. His eyes were wide open. In front of him was not a man. He had no name for the thing hunching through his door. It was immense, furred all over, standing on two hunched legs. Its arms were strangely long for its body. There were sharp claws on its hands and feet (paws?). Its fangs reflected the moonlight coming through his window. Its eyes glowed red.

Stiles had never seen anything like it, not even in movies or novels. He could see how strong its arms would be, the strength of its legs, yet it wasn’t using them. It looked straight at him and walked with a hand outstretched. The floor trembled under its weight. The hair’s all over Stiles’ body stood on end.

As it grabbed his arm, he came back to his senses. With a short loud yell, he swung the bat. The creature was startled at its power and cowered some, but did not let go of him. Stiles kicked at its knees and swung again. This time it stumbled away and released him. Though it cost Stiles big bleeding marks on his arm. It looked back at him. Confused. Stiles stopped his attack.

With the light hitting it directly, he could see some burned spots on its fur. There was an arrowhead stuck on its side. It looked pitiful. Not threatening even with its huge stature. But fear of the unknown did not allow Stiles to lower his bat.

“Leave!” he shouted. The creature kept on looking and then leaped through the window. Stiles stayed on guard for another ten minutes. Then he dialed his dad.

“Son? What are you doing awake?” Stiles breathed uneasily. “Stiles?” He tried to talk but he choked on his words. “Stiles? Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he reassured. “I- Something happened. I- I don’t know what exactly?”

“Breathe. Take your time.” His dad was using his sheriff's voice mixed in with paternal worry. After a trembling breath and a shiver, Stiles kept going.

“Something came into the house. It- it was not human.”


	6. Chapter 6

# 6

Stiles followed his dad’s instructions in a haze. He put on a jacket, pants, and shoes. Grabbed his school bag, pushed his laptop in, and some spare boxers. When he was done, he could hear the sirens getting closer fast.

He waited on his chair, counting his breaths like Rapha and a psychiatrist had taught him. He was nearing a hundred when his dad came into the room flashing his lantern and aiming his gun.

“Clear!” He pulled him up from the chair and hugged him. Stiles held on tightly to him. His brain came back online. “You’re okay. You’re okay,” his dad shushed. Reassuring both himself and Stiles.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why do I need a bag?” Stiles asked accommodating it over his right shoulder. His left arm burned.

“I’m taking you somewhere safe until we catch the mountain lion.”

Stiles frowned. “When I said it wasn’t human, I did not mean a mountain lion.”

“Are you sure?”

Stiles nodded vigorously as his dad guided him downstairs and out. There was Parrish again and a team looking at the tracks. “Mountain lions are not that big. It- it looked like the demon son of something or somethings.”

The sheriff’s eyebrows rose unbelievingly. “Tell me what happened. Did it bite you?” The sheriff gave him a once-over and saw nothing different on his son. The jacket covered nicely the wound on his arm and Stiles felt no need to worry his dad more with it.

“No, no. A noise woke me. I thought it was a robber. Even mocked him in my head. So, I grabbed my bat. But when it came through the door, I froze. It- I haven’t seen anything like it, dad. It walked on two legs and had fur all over. I couldn’t look away from its red eyes.” Stiles gulped, steadied his breathing. “I hit it two times and it went away.”

His dad nodded. His face was grim. Parrish approached them. “Parrish, I’m taking Stiles to the Hales. Check the perimeter. It could still be around. If you see people out and about, usher them inside. If you see it, you know what to do. I’ll be back with Laura and we’ll conduct a search if you do not find it.”

“Yes, sir.” He squeezed Stiles’ left shoulder and went to follow his orders. Stiles held in the wince of pain. Luckily, Parrish had not touched the injuries directly. Stiles exhaled shakily.

The sheriff guided him to his car with a hand on his good arm. As he started the car and headed in a direction Stiles had not explored yet, Stiles asked more questions. “Why are you taking me to the Hales and not the Argents? Allison and Chris are family, Cora and Laura aren’t.”

“They have a better security system. And I trust them to keep you safe by all means.”

“And the Argents wouldn’t?” Stiles frowned.

“They would keep you safe too, but I feel more comfortable with Talia.”

“Because of Gerard and Kate?”

He nodded. “That and I might be getting Chris’ or Kate’s help. The prospect of you alone with Gerard for an unknown amount of time does not please me.”

“There’d also be Allison and Victoria.”

“Yes, but he’d corner you at some point and one of you would end up in the hospital. There’s a reason I have been stalling any more visits there.”

“The Hales it is.” Stiles let the silence in for a moment. They were turning right to a path leading into the woods. “So, what really attacked me? Don’t expect me to believe it was a mountain lion. Much less when we are driving through the woods.”

The sheriff cleared his throat uncomfortably. Stiles watched his every feature like a hawk. “Some mountain lions stand on their back legs; bears too.”

“Mountain lions pounce. Bears I give it to you. But it wasn’t either. What was it?”

“We’ll go with mountain lion as it is our regular creature attacking.” He parked outside a lovely two-story house alone in the middle of the woods. The lights were on downstairs.

Stiles gulped and choked down the tightness in his chest. “That’s a lie.” The sheriff killed the engine and climbed out. Stiles copied him hastily. “This is the first time you lie to me. Why? What are you not telling me?”

His dad scratched at his neck and sighed dejectedly. “It’s a long story I haven’t come around to tell you.”

“Give me the short version, then.”

His dad shook his head and looked at the house. “I need to find what got into our home first. Then we’ll sit and talk.” He walked toward the front door.

Stiles jogged until he blocked his way. Gesticulating with his good arm, the burn of the other extending to his eyes. “Why? Is it scandalous? You can’t just tell me I’m kind of right and then just run off after something that could have ripped off my arm in its sleep.”

The sheriff looked at him deeply. “It can’t be explained in a minute. It involves your mother and probably why she ran away with you in her belly.” Stiles was stunned to silence. His dad hugged him, cradling his head. “I promise we’ll talk later. I never break a promise.”

Stiles gripped the back of his shirt and choked the stuffed feeling in his throat. After he breathed deeply, his dad let go and knocked on the door. The scuffling of feet sounded, then a beautiful woman looking like an older version of Laura and Cora opened the door.

“Morning, Noah. Nice to meet you, Stiles,” he bowed slightly his head, “I’m Talia Hale. Come on in.”

They entered a warm room with couches. There was a line of people waiting to welcome them. Stiles nodded to a sleepy duo of Isaac and Cora on the right, then shocked himself to discover Derek on the left.

His Derek. The one who had fucked him into oblivion. The one that promised to call. The one who never called. The one Stiles could not stop thinking about. Derek. Derek Hale. Son of this kind woman. Brother of Laura and Cora. Fuck. His Derek was Cora’s older brother. Fuck.

“Stiles,” Talia called him out of his head. “You know Cora and Isaac, and Laura.”

“Hello kiddo,” said Laura finishing the buttons on her deputy uniform and coming down the stairs. His dad must have called ahead.

“This is my son, Derek.”

Derek’s eyes were attentive, looking him over. “You’re hurt,” he said scowling. Boy, he had no idea how much. Stiles blinked and looked down at his left arm. The blood was seeping through his jacket.

“You didn’t say you were hurt,” the sheriff scolded and turned him around. Stiles’ head whipped back to look at Derek again. He couldn’t believe it.

“It’s not bad,” he lied. Derek was avoiding looking at him.

The sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose. “I prefer paramedics to decide on that.”

“It’s ok, Noah,” Talia laid a hand on his dad’s arm. “Derek has had first aid training; he’ll look it over. You and Laura must get going. Time is always of the essence on these matters. We’ll look after him.”

“You’re already going?” Stiles stared back at his dad.

The sheriff patted his good arm. “Yes. I’ll be back as soon as possible or in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” Laura patted Stiles’ head. “I’ll keep him safe and sane.”

Stiles bit his lip and nodded. Talia pushed him to follow Derek. He looked back one more time toward them. His dad gave him a little wave and walked out with Laura. He trailed after Derek to the upstairs bathroom. On their way up, he saw pictures of a huge family; pictures that made the chanting in his brain make sense. He fucked Cora’s older brother.

“Sit there,” said Derek once they got in the bathroom. He gathered the first aid kid, searching its contents for everything he might need. Stiles sat up next to the sink, watching him all the time. Derek gulped discreetly, but nothing escaped Stiles’ over alert and focused eyes.

“Were you ever going to call me?” he whispered.

He wondered a thousand times and more what he had done wrong. Lydia had been a major witness, along with his other friends. Damn, Cora too had heard him complain and whine about his missing hot stranger! Maybe it had been the sex, his obvious lack of beauty, or a million other things, but he also had thought Derek had enjoyed himself. The exact replays in his head confirmed this.

Derek glanced up and down so fast Stiles almost missed it. “I was.”

“Then what changed?”

“I realized who you were, are.”

Stiles scoffed. What did that even mean? Or mattered? “And I just found out. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to jump your bones again or get to know you.”

Derek cleared his throat. His beard was doing a poor job of hiding his blushing cheekbones. “Take off your jacket and shirt.”

“You first.”

Stiles knew he was being childish and illogical. After an eyebrow and glare exchange, he deflated. He hissed when his sleeve unglued itself from his arm. Derek had to help him do it. Stiles gulped and looked away to stare at the floor. Not even Derek’s beauty could ease the dizziness from seeing his own torn flesh and oozing blood. Claw marks were surrounding his arm, four up and one on the inside. Besides he was sad-mad at him. He had gotten his hopes ridiculously up. Allison was right. He had a hopeless crush.

“You don’t fuck around with the Sheriff’s underage son, Stiles,” Derek muttered explanatory while he cleaned the blood around his arm. Stiles startled. He had answered his brain’s question unless he’d asked it out loud.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I met the man two weeks ago. I’ve been having sex for three years. I can fuck whoever I want. He _knows_ , he’s _cool_ with it, with me being bi, too. In some states, it’s legal at 16. The legal consent age in California is 18—plot twist, I’m 18 in less than two months.” Stiles ended his rambling in a hiss. Derek was now cleaning the wound directly.

“I would rather have waited two months,” he grumbled.

Stiles searched his face for any kind of signs. Was he serious? Was he playing him? Did he look like a miserable ex right now? He felt like that. He wanted to be Derek’s something. Husband or boyfriend would be great—after only one night, Stiles wanted forever. But he’d take what he could. One heated shared look told him he meant it. Stiles licked his lips with purpose. Maybe they had a chance, then. Derek followed and gulped down to his wound. Stiles kept quiet now.

Derek cleared his throat. “Wanna tell me how this happened?”

Stiles snorted. “It was a mountain lion.”

“You don’t believe that,” Derek frowned.

“Fuck no! Have you seen a mountain lion? Wait, of course you have. You grew up here. Your family lives in the middle of the woods, for fuck's sake. Mountain lions don’t look like _that_ nor stand on two legs. I know. I’ve googled them.”

“Two legs.” Derek’s raised eyebrow seemed judgmental.

“I’m not making it up. I’m not sleep driven or anything. I’m wide awake.”

“Tell me, then.”

Stiles bit his lip. It was insane what he had seen. His dad’s eyebrows had thought so. “It was the demon son of a huge ass bear and a wolf.” Derek frowned. “It had red eyes.” That made him stop for a moment, but there was no laugh attempt or disbelief in his eyes. “And something felt off, wrong somehow… It didn’t try to eat me.”

That made Derek stop moving entirely. “What.”

“One, predators hunt to kill with a clean aim of neck or belly to feed; my arm proves this point. It grabbed me like it wanted me to go with it. Two, animals don’t break and enter a house as hunting grounds; much less wild mountain lions.”

“I’ve heard of mountain lion sightings in weird places.” Stiles’ eyebrow challenged him. “But no B&E, no.”

“That caught your attention? Not the red eyes or the size? Or the way it grabbed me?”

Derek shrugged and resumed his task. Stiles winced a lot less now. “My granny liked to tell stories. I liked to listen.”

“And she told you of things that bump in the night like this one?”

“Among others.” Derek put on some gauze and tape. “I liked to believe they were true.”

Stiles shivered for no reason. “Well, they are,” he whispered. “And they are fucking strong. I bashed its head in with my bat and it walked it off like nothing. It did the trick though, it let me go. But it looked at me, Derek. I know in my gut it was wondering how to take me. Confused even at why I wasn’t just going along. Not kill me.”

He was visibly trembling. Stiles didn’t know he’d been so scared until the safety of Derek’s arms chased it away. He smelled Derek’s natural scent and let himself hold him tight. “Hey, it’s ok. You’re safe now, here. I won’t let it get to you.”

Stiles chuckled and turned his nose into Derek’s neck. He smelled amazing. He smelled like safety, woods, and home. “Your glare’s impressive, but I don’t think it’d work on it.”

“I bet it would,” he deadpanned and tightened his arms around him.

Stiles gulped and pictured it. Derek had admirable muscles but even he’d be small against it. Stiles didn’t like the preview in his head. It squeezed the air out of his lungs the idea of Derek hurt, or worse. “Let’s not find out.”

Derek silently agreed and nuzzled his cheek. Stiles’ heart swelled with affection. He missed this. One night and he missed him deeply, his presence. It gnawed at his bones. He turned his head a little more to the side. His nose brushed Derek’s. His lips were almost touching. This was way bigger than a simple crush. Yet Derek jumped away frightened when a knock on the door came.

“Everything ok, boys?” Talia asked. Stiles sighed, letting his arms drop next to his legs.

Derek opened the door and hanged his head. “It’s not deep. He won’t need stitches.”

“Good.” She turned to Stiles now with a warm smile and eyes that knew what was going on but pretended to be oblivious. Stiles missed mom eyes. “Stiles? Isaac’s t-shirt should fit you just fine.”

He put it on, mindful of Derek’s work. A growl seemed to come from Derek but it was just coughing. “Sweetie, you should take some honey for that throat.” She intertwined her arm with Stiles’ good one and guided him. “I’ll show you where you can rest. My room’s on the other side. Laura’s in front of Cora’s. You’ll have Isaac on your left and Derek in front. Bathroom is at the end.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Hale,” he said after entering his temporal room.

“Not a problem, Stiles. Sleep well.” She left and closed the door behind her.

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, right.” Like sleep was going to come.

He paced the room, looking it over, touching everything with his never-still fingers. It was quite simple. A fairly big bed, for three people at least; a small desk with a chair; a modest closet, and a couple of windows looking out to the trees. Though he didn’t see cameras or movement sensors like the Argents had. What kind of security system did they have then that was better and safer in the middle of the damned woods?

Stiles huffed and sat on the bed. Isaac had brought up his bag with his laptop. The only thing he’d grabbed. He didn’t remember putting it down. Derek had the effect to make him forget everything else. Stiles didn’t think twice to turn it on. In a few seconds, he’d opened Google Images and began his search.

Naturally, he first typed in the description he gave Derek, but _demon son of wolf and bear_ only had one or the other, not a combination. He switched to _red eyes bearman_. Nothing remotely similar came up. Next, he typed _red eyes wolfman_ , which seemed a lot closer. And wolfman was a synonym for werewolf. Stiles hesitated for a second. It seemed ridiculous, but his need to know won over. The first result for _red-eyed werewolf_ made his heart skip a beat. It was like someone had taken a picture of what attacked him. He left only _werewolf_ , then. Among the results came up Harry Potter’s Lupin, but some other illustrations and drawings looked exactly like that thing.

Stiles switched to web results and opened several links on different tabs. Though before he started reading, he huffed to himself and harshly rubbed his head. Was he looking up werewolves as a possibility? It had seemed like an impossible creature to exist, but still…

“Werewolves?” he muttered to himself. “No way.”

He glanced at the time. 3:53 a.m. With a sigh, he pushed his laptop away and closed it. He let himself fall back on the bed and scrubbed his face. He was tired, but there wasn’t a chance he’d fall asleep. Not without his pillow.

He stood and picked up his laptop. After leaving it on the desk, there was a knock on his door. Confused, he opened it to see a gorgeous Derek on the other side.

They looked at each other’s eyes. “Yeah?” Stiles whispered breaking the spell.

Derek cleared his throat. “You can’t sleep.”

Stiles sighed and let him in. “No.”

“Maybe this will help.” Stiles sat again on the bed and looked up to a mug in Derek’s hand. It looked steamy and inviting. The smell of hot cocoa reached him. Stiles took it.

“Thanks, though I don’t think it’ll work.” Stiles wished the heat on his cheeks away. It’d been a while since anyone brought him a treat for a rough night. “How did you know I like hot chocolate?”

Derek shrugged. “Who doesn’t?”

Stiles let the mug warm his hands and then took a sip. It was perfect, just the right amount of sweet. He tried to quiet down his moan of enjoyment because people were asleep. It still came out. When he opened his eyes, he noticed Derek staring intently at the floor. The tips of his ears were pinked.

“So… tell me something about your adorable self.”

Derek looked up bewildered. “What?”

“You know, how old you are, have you ever left this place, do you have a degree, what is it about, what’s your favorite color, band or DJ?, Lord of the Rings or Star Wars, or both? Stuff like that.”

“I’m not adorable,” Derek frowned.

That was his take from all that? Stiles huffed, looked down into his cup, and then raised an eyebrow at Derek. “Yes, you are. There’s no point in denying it. You’re also very caring. I know that since,” he shrugged, “you know,” he cleared his throat, “we...”

He bit his lower lip to stop himself from saying more, like how Derek was the most attentive partner he’d ever had and how he didn’t want to be with anyone else for the rest of his life. Seemed kind of a strong come-on, especially when Derek hadn’t called and was skittish around the subject.

“Tell me about you.”

“Why?”

Stiles shrugged again and looked away. “Just… distract me, please.” Suddenly, understanding came to Derek.

Derek was 24 years old and turned out to be a translator. He spoke seven languages and had been away visiting family, his favorite uncle actually, for a month before he came back the night of their meeting. He then hastily switched to retell how peaceful it was to have grown in this house and some of his excursions with Laura to the woods, pretending to be the biggest predator out there.

They chatted until Stiles finished his mug. When he looked around for somewhere to put it, Derek came closer with an extended hand. “Here, I’ll take it.”

Stiles gave it back but grabbed Derek’s other hand. “Don’t go. I-” Stiles looked down embarrassed. He didn’t want to be alone. It used to be a familiar feeling for so long that Beacon Hills had vanished, but now, of all times, he felt it creeping back. He didn’t want to feel that. And Derek made him feel so good.

Derek squeezed his hand. “I’ll stay ‘till you fall asleep.”

Stiles snorted and let him go leave the mug next to his laptop. “That might never happen.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of a Hale Hot Cocoa,” Derek smirked.

Stiles remembered then—like he even needed the reminder—why he’d been attracted to him in the first place at Jungle. Those eyes promised challenge and adventure, while that smile shined like the sun and ensured wild memories and a little danger.

Amazingly enough, the chocolate did manage to make him sleep, as well as the warmth of Derek’s reassuring hand holding on to him.


	7. Chapter 7

# 7

Stiles woke up alone. No surprise there. Having fallen asleep with Derek’s hand in his, his warmth close one more time, Stiles had hoped to find him asleep in the chair next to him. Wishful thinking.

He stretched and winced. He jumped to alertness at the pain in his arm. His energy overflowing as if he had been drinking coffee all day long. He knew this feeling. He got up and searched his bag for his pills. They were nowhere in sight. He overturned it and looked in every zipper and small tear. Not there. He scratched his forehead and put everything back inside.

Great. Now Derek would see his jittery ADHD self and be pushed away. He sighed. His stomach growled. He huffed and bit his lip. Would it be okay if he went down and grabbed something? Just like that? He gulped and went out of his room. He looked at the closed room in front of him and with all his willpower resisted from peeking inside. Noises were coming from downstairs and the delicious smell of waffles drifted up. Stiles tried to pace himself into a walk and failed.

In the kitchen was Talia Hale looking perfectly composed for someone who had been woken up in the middle of the night.

“Good morning, Stiles,” she turned and smiled at him. Stiles could see where Derek had gotten his beautiful smile from. “Are you hungry?”

“Morning,” he stood awkwardly holding the big marble table in the kitchen, fighting hard not to jump all over the place and look into every cabinet. “Um, yeah. Some.”

“Sit, then. Waffles will be ready in a few minutes and the smell will wake up my kids in no time.”

Stiles nodded. “Um, do you need help? With um plates or something?”

“Yes, please. Everything is in the upper cupboards.”

He got up and went there, but he forgot himself and tried to use his left arm. He hissed and grabbed it. Talia turned to him a second, then continued as if nothing had happened. Stiles breathed deeply and used his other arm. Before he could open the cupboard, he felt someone standing behind him and doing it for him.

“Sit.”

Derek’s deep, sleepy voice rumbled behind him. Stiles couldn’t stop his shiver or his blush. He turned and bumped into him. Derek was not wearing a shirt. Dear goddesses. Stiles grabbed on to his waist. His heart’s excited rhythm was a rush in his ears. Derek took him by the shoulder and moved him to a chair with a small twist.

He sat and stared at his hands over the table, calming himself. This was silly. He had more control over himself than this. He breathed in and out and managed to chase away the blush. His jumping leg and drumming fingers were out of the question without his meds. He could feel Derek in his hands.

Derek set the table with a sleepy frown. Stiles tried hard not to stare at him, so he detailed to memory the kitchen. Talia looked like an expert flipping the pan and its waffle mixture. Everything seemed squeaky clean and pretty. The cupboards were a deep brown that made the marble table homey and fresh. The fridge was huge. The table could fit at least ten people. And Derek moved without bumping into his mother. A chest naked Derek still a little bit asleep.

Oh, the goddesses. Stiles was in the company of the guy he wanted to fuck again and again, and _his mother_. He gulped guiltily and sighed relieved in his head when he heard feet behind him. Isaac was scrubbing his eyes and Cora was in the middle of a yawn. Other two people, more of Derek’s family but friends of his, to focus on. As they passed him, Cora patted his head and Isaac caressed his back. Both of them sat to his left. Derek sat to his right.

“Morning, guys! Did you sleep ok?” He bit his lip trying to refrain from talking too much or looking back at Derek’s abs. “Sorry if I disturbed your hours with what arriving at three in the morning.”

“It’s ok,” Isaac grinned. Cora nodded and slept a little more over the table.

“So…. You live here, Isaac.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Isaac chuckled.

“Yeah. Talia is my legal guardian. My family passed away in a mountain lion attack.” He shrugged it off.

“Oh, uh- sorry? Damn, is too early for this shi- uh, stuff.” Stiles scratched nervously his forehead.

“It’s ok.” He smiled. “It was five years ago, and it was only my dad and me by the time.”

Stiles bit his lip. He wanted to ask more, know what happened. Had it been a mountain lion? Or had it been something like what came for him? A possible werewolf? He frowned. His fingers were moving faster as was his leg. Derek trapped both with his hands and leg.

“What’s gotten into you?” He looked him over. “You weren’t this jumpy when we-” He cut himself off and opened wide his sleepy eyes. A furtive look toward his mother proved her oblivious, or apparently oblivious. Isaac narrowed his eyes.

Stiles stopped breathing and moving altogether for a second. Derek almost blurted it out in front of his family. “Um, uh, yeah. I- uh. I have ADHD and forgot my meds with the uh- you know.” He gesticulated with his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his hands below Derek’s and the warmth seeping in through his pajamas from his other hand. Stiles cursed in his head. This was a turn on.

He frowned, but before he could speak, Talia put waffles on the table and spoke first. “I’ll give your dad a call and remind him to bring them. Are you going to be ok until he gets them here?”

Stiles nodded and bit his lip. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. Just distracted a lot, by uh, everything that moves or reflects light. But fine. I don’t know about you all. You might want to kill me before my dad brings my meds. I’ll be all over the place. I have a lot of energy and my daily pill makes it easier to focus. Somewhat...” He was speaking too fast according to Derek’s scowling eyebrows. He tried to shut himself and not focus on Derek. It was a losing battle.

Derek looked wonderful. His eyes were a bit more awake and looked greener against the kitchen’s colors. During their night, they had seemed more blueish. The hint of gold was still there. Stiles really liked his eyes, but there were his abs in plain view too. He bit his lip and tried not to follow them down to the border of his pajamas. He failed.

“Well, dig in,” said Talia. He jumped at her voice and returned his attention to the food. Derek released him. His leg went back to its unrestrained movement. Stiles served himself four waffles. There was an unbelievable amount of them available. It looked like way too much food.

“God, there’s no way to stop your leg,” grimaced Cora pilling six waffles on her plate. Derek’s left hand returned. During breakfast with his family. Who all ate like they were starving.

He shook his head. “Sorry, sorry.” He bit his lower lip. “It’ll be easier if I’m doing something that um uses up a lot of energy.” He glanced at Derek. Stiles could barely focus on eating and controlling the shiver in him at Derek’s hand squeezing his leg.

“Should we go to the lake, then?” asked Isaac after drinking some chocolate milk. When had he got it? Was there more?

“There’s one around here? In the woods? That sounds cool! Uh is it okay with, you know, the attack and all?”

Talia smiled at him. “It will be okay. They never attack during daylight.”

Stiles frowned. She said they and spoke freely, sure and unworried about it. “Um, I don’t have anything to swim in though.”

“You can borrow one of my shorts.” The same coughing growl of last night came from Derek. Derek rapidly moved his hand away from his leg. “Or Derek’s.”

“Are you ok?” asked Stiles confused. Talia went to a cupboard by the fridge and brought some honey for her son. Oh, G’s, her son, Stiles reminded himself.

“Have a spoonful, sweetie. It’ll help. I know how much you love the lake.” Derek nodded with pinked ears. Cora seemed to be stuffing her laughter down with waffles. Isaac’s shoulders were shaking with an unknown joke. Stiles wanted to know what was going on.

Derek gulped down a spoonful, then cleared his throat. “I’ll lend you one of mine. Isaac’s are all dirty, as usual.” He glared at Isaac, who blushed too.

Cora rolled her eyes. “Stiles, can you pass me the marmalade?”

He nodded and did as she said. A car turning into the Hale’s gravel driveway sounded. Stiles jumped in his chair and almost fell out of it. Derek and Isaac grabbed him in time. Though Isaac grabbed him right on his injuries, making him wince. Derek pulled him a little to his side and Isaac let go of him

“Sorry, man. I forgot.” He looked alarmed.

“No worries, dude. I forgot twice before you came down.” Stiles shrugged and righted himself in the chair.

The door opened and hurried feet came to the kitchen. Stiles was a little sad it wasn’t his dad but wasn’t disappointed to see both Scott and Melissa going straight to him. He stood up and let them hug him.

“Hey man, Melissa.”

Melissa shooed away Scott’s hands and put Stiles at arm’s length, careful of his wound. “Take off your shirt.”

Stiles blushed. “Uh, what? Why? I’m ok, I swear. Derek looked it over last night when I got here.”

Melissa glared. “Derek is good and well-trained, but he is not a nurse. Now or I’ll take it off.”

Stiles moved his hands in front of him. “Really!” he squeaked. “I’m fine!”

“Scott,” Melissa ordered.

Scott grabbed him from behind by his hips. Stiles put little of a fight against Melissa removing his shirt. He cowered a little into himself at being semi-nude in front of Talia, the mother of the guy he was lusting after, and Derek in broad daylight with his family. G’s, help him. He blushed, a little embarrassed.

“I didn’t think of you as shy, Stiles,” Cora mocked him.

“I’m- I’m- I’m not!” he jumped and stuttered as Scott moved his hands toward his shoulders. “I just-” he winced when Melissa removed the tape and gauze. “It’s unnecessary,” he ended up muttering and scuffling his feet. He glanced at Derek, whose ears were redder now, as wells as some of his sharp cheekbones, and was chewing purposefully with his eyes closed. Stiles bit his lip, a little happy he had this effect on him.

Melissa looked over the scratches, nodding to herself. She then applied a new gauze from her purse. “It’s good. Already scabbing. You can dress now.” She smiled unworriedly at him and gave back his borrowed shirt. “It won’t even leave a scar.” He put it on hastily.

Scott moved on to grab a plate and waffles. Talia palmed his shoulder with affection when he sat next to her. “I better get going,” said Melissa. “I’ll come back after my shift for you, Scott.” She kissed Stiles’ head. “Be good. Don’t drive them crazy.” After squeezing his blushed neck, she left.

“Man, thank you for letting her mother you. She was super worried when your dad called us. Allison is too, but her dad won’t let her come out today,” Scott moped.

“Yeah, yeah. She texted. I’ll send her a pic of me, living and breathing, later.” Stiles glanced at Derek and found him glancing at the same time. Both of them looked away. “We’ll go to the lake!” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Scott brightened up. “Oh, man! Sweet! Isaac lend me something.”

“Sure.”

They were already finishing. Scott ate extra fast. They went upstairs, minus Talia. She ushered them out of the kitchen to clean. “You’re going to love it, Stiles. I promise.”

Stiles smiled. Scott and Isaac went into the latter’s room to change. Stiles followed Derek to his. It had some posters and a ball for basketball. There was a shelf crammed with books. And his unmade bed in the middle. With difficulty, Stiles went to the books.

“So, you live here or at the loft?” Stiles examined the bookshelf while Derek looked for shorts that’d fit Stiles.

“At the loft. But mom likes it when I stay here during attacks. She feels more comfortable having us all under one roof. Laura too has her place downtown.”

Stiles hummed. “So, it was _Laura_ who called you for brunch. That day.”

Derek cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh. Here. I think this one will be ok.”

Stiles turned to face him and grabbed it. Then he took off his shirt, throwing it to the scrambled gray sheets of Derek’s bed. Derek stared at his torso for a second and turned to grab shorts for himself. Stiles smirked.

“Thanks. That’s sweet of you,” he said as he changed. He turned and passed a hand over the books. He had to, otherwise, he’d jump Derek as he changed too. Plenty were in other languages. There was a fluttering inside of him. Derek was a book nerd. And smart, if he spoke seven languages.

“Ready?” Derek asked. Stiles turned and stared freely. He was so gorgeous. Derek raised an eyebrow “You’re staring.”

“Nothing new. And so were you, Mister Broody.”

Stiles took a step toward him. Without his meds, it was very easy to focus solely on Derek. He was a handsome magnet and Stiles had no power against his pull. He wasn’t skittish with his eyes and demeanor as he had been at the table, in front of his family. Stiles could see surfacing the confident, cocky guy from Jungle. He had a similar look in his eyes as he looked him over. Stiles was aware of the shorts barely holding on to his hips, how low they felt. Stiles licked his lips and felt his dick twitch. He wasn’t shy this time around either. Derek’s eyes looked lower and he gulped.

There was a knock on the door. “We’re ready!” Scott yelled through the closed door. Stiles’ cursed mentally in his head as he saw Derek regaining his composure and moving away.

“So are we!” Stiles answered. Derek glared at the floor and threw Stiles a shirt, not Isaac’s borrowed one. He grabbed another one for himself and walked out, passing Scott by.

“Everything ok?” Scott frowned confused and looked into the room.

“Yeah. I think it’s still early for him. He’s grumpy. Let’s go. To the lake!” Stiles’ enthusiasm came back. Derek was attracted to him. That much he had confirmed.

They went downstairs. Stiles tried to pry from Scott how the lake looked like but he didn’t budge, claiming it would be better to just see it. Words had nothing on the lake’s beauty. None of the others budged either.

“Be careful.” Talia gave them packed sandwiches and waved at them as they walked out of the house. There was a trail leading into the woods. A well walked path, not manmade, that would take them to the lake.

Scott walked next to Stiles. Isaac next to Cora. And Derek was behind all of them. The little he tripped, Scott managed to keep him straight on his feet. Stiles’ looked back to talk with Cora and Isaac, and steal glances of Derek’s scowling face. Stiles wanted to see his free smile and his bunny teeth again though. A mischievous plan formed in his head.

A couple of seconds later, Scott kept him from advancing. “Close your eyes.”

“I’ll fall if I do that,” Stiles raised both eyebrows.

Cora rolled her eyes. “We’ll keep you on your feet.”

“It’s worth the view,” Isaac encouraged.

Stiles looked at Derek. He grinned tightlipped at him and nodded. Stiles closed his eyes and let Scott and Cora lead him forward the rest of the way. They moved him to a specific spot.

“Ok, ok. Now. Open them.”

Stiles was left speechless. He didn’t know what to look at first. The lake was breathtaking. It had an irregular shape, but its crystalline water showed colorful fish and smooth rocks. Its depth unknown. There was a tiny clearing around it, after years of people coming here. The trees swayed with a slight breeze Stiles breathed in. He felt like asking permission before entering. So he did. He closed his eyes a second and thanked Mother Earth for her beauty.

He smiled back at the others. “Last to the lake is a foul-smelling egg!” He ran first straight ahead, took off his shirt, and jumped in, followed closely by Cora.

When he resurfaced, Scott was complaining. “That’s cheating, man!”

Stiles laughed. Isaac and Scott were in the lake too. But a grumpy good-looking man was sitting by the edge, just his feet in. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. He swam to him and grabbed his ankles. “You didn’t even try,” he pouted. Derek rolled his eyes.

“It’s a kid’s game.” Stiles felt Cora’s eye roll from a distance.

“And you’re such an old man at 24!” yelled Isaac.

“Last week you even pushed Laura away!” added Scott.

Stiles raised his eyebrow and smirked. Mischief took over his eyes. “Do I intimidate you, Derek Hale?” He moved his hands up and tightened his hold over Derek’s calves.

Derek scoffed and squinted against the sun at him. “No.”

Stiles heard Isaac’s retort. “Yeah, right.” Scott sniggered and Cora shushed them with water. They started a war between them.

“Then come swim or suffer the consequences,” Stiles challenged.

Stiles was almost vibrating out of his skin with his energy. But Derek made him focus, helped him be in control of it. It was better than a pill. Stiles liked how it felt. All the more when he wanted to touch and tease and get a rise out of him. Though he also knew he had to tread carefully in order not to spook him away forever.

“You can try,” Derek replied with a challenge of his own and a mock glare. He was having fun too. Stiles smirked. He didn’t expect any less.

Stiles knew he wouldn’t move him with strength alone, so he settled his legs against the lake’s border and freed one hand. Derek guessed his move, but unless he shook Stiles off, he was powerless. Stiles made water rain all over Derek and grinned at his grumpy cat face. Derek inclined himself forward in an attempt to remove Stiles’ left hand from his calf. He fell right into Stiles’ plan. He was too careful of the wound and Stiles took advantage. He grabbed Derek’s neck with his right hand, pushed away from the edge with his legs, and pulled him under with him.

Stiles kept his eyes open and laughed underwater at Derek’s surprised gaze. He held on to Stiles’ waist and brought them back to the surface. The others’ laughter reached them. Derek frowned and shook the water away from his face.

Stiles pulled himself closer and whispered to him. “Got ya, big guy.” Then he let go, reining in himself before going too far.

Stiles turned around to swim to the others and keep the water fight going, but Derek grabbed him from behind, flushing himself completely against him. “Not so fast,” he mumbled.

Stiles liked the contrast of Derek’s hot body against the freshwater. He shivered with unforgettable memories. Derek trapped him with one arm around him and pushed water onto his face. Stiles squirmed and pushed his face as far as it would go toward Derek’s shoulder, trying to escape the onslaught. Derek grinned into Stiles’ neck. “Now who’s losing?”

“You cheated,” Stiles panted. Trembling for two reasons. Holding his breath and Derek’s whole being.

“All is fair in love and war.”

Stiles turned to pout at him, but his grin was too giddy and broad for it to actually be a pout. “Shakespeare nerd,” he mocked.

Derek smiled with his bunny teeth and twinkling eyes when the others made it rain on both of them. Good timing too as they were getting into it a little too much. It felt colder when Derek released him and went to chase after Isaac. Stiles submerged himself to calm down and swam after Cora. He pulled her down and away, then resurfaced to throw water at Scott from his mouth.

“Argh, gross!” Scott pushed his laughing face away with a hand. Then pulled the same trick on him.

It took them at least half-hour to stop throwing water at each other. As they floated to recover their breath, Stiles remembered. “Hey, have you seen the dog?”

“Again, with the blue-eyed dog from the woods, huh?” Cora grinned at Derek, who submerged himself.

“Well, a dog alone in the woods at night is weird. I’m worried, ‘kay?”

“Haven’t seen him,” Isaac shrugged.

“Nor at the vet. I would tell you, man.”

Stiles hummed. “Fine. He’s probably back home, right?”

“Yeah, most likely.”

He pouted. “Damn. I wanted to see it again.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Cora managed to say before yelping when Derek pulled her under.

Another water fight happened. Stiles panted laughingly and felt the need to pee after so much playing around. He swam to the edge, but Derek grabbed his hand before he went out.

“Where are you going?”

“To pee?” asked Stiles with his eyebrows raised.

Scott opened his mouth, but Isaac and Cora pushed him down before he could say anything. Stiles chuckled and Derek rolled his eyes. “I’ll go with you.”

“I can go by myself, you know.”

Derek shrugged and got himself out. Then reached down to pull him out. “I know these woods better than you.”

Stiles let himself be pulled, biting his lower lip. Derek could definitely fuck him against a bathroom wall without any problem whatsoever. Derek cleared his throat and started walking.

“You’re not going to get sick because of this, right?”

Derek frowned. “No. Why would I? I never get sick.” Stiles came up to him and touched his forehead with his hand. He felt hot, even with the cold water rolling down.

“You’re a little hot, though.”

“I’ve always been a little hotter than most,” Derek moved him to keep walking.

“I would say a lot, but still agree.” Stiles nodded and Derek pushed him a bit harsh to the side. Stiles laughed. “Are we far enough now, sir?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek turned around.

“Are you protecting my virtue?” Stiles rolled his eyes and started peeing. “You don’t need to turn. You’ve already seen me naked and-”

“Just pee, Stiles.” He turned to see Derek’s tense shoulders and bit his lip. Perhaps that was too much.

Fast, he finished his business. Then he sent a silent thanks to Mother Earth. Suddenly something moved in the bush next to him. A raccoon peeked at him from it. The same one as before.

“Hi there, little dude,” Stiles crouched. The raccoon jumped to his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“Stiles,” called Derek. His voice was tense. Stiles frowned. Had his comment been that much? “Don’t move. Turn around. Slow.”

Stiles did as instructed and froze, holding tighter the raccoon. There was a mountain lion. Derek reached out and grabbed his arm. Slowly, he put Stiles behind him and glared at the mountain lion. The mountain lion stared from one to the other.

“Hold him,” Stiles passed the raccoon to Derek.

“What? Stiles, what-”

Stiles shushed him and put himself in front of Derek. It was crazy. Derek’s eyes and eyebrows said so, his free hand too as he tried to pull him back. Stiles squeezed his hand and crouched again. He stretched a placating hand, then slowly turned his palm up and waited. His eyes never left the mountain lion’s. It came closer. It looked at Derek and back at Stiles. It sniffed his hand and retreated. Once it was a meter away from Stiles, it ran off into the woods.

Stiles smiled and turned to Derek. He was stunned and scowling. With the raccoon holding on to his head. Stiles laughed. The raccoon climbed off Derek and went to Stiles’ arms. It hugged him.

“You’re ok, little dude.”

Derek was glaring out to the trees when Stiles let the raccoon go. “We should go back.”

Stiles chuckled. “Man, I wish I’d brought my cell phone. Your face was priceless.”

Derek shook his head and kept on frowning. “Don’t do that again. You had no way to protect yourself from it. It could have-”

“Hey,” Stiles grabbed Derek’s face with both hands and looked into his eyes. He was worried. Very worried. “I’m fine. We’re fine. It wasn’t threatening us.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually. It wouldn’t have come out just like that if it were to attack us. It would have stayed in the shadows and awaited an opening. It could have attacked while I peed when I was most defenseless.” Derek frowned more. His jaw clenched at the idea. “But it didn’t. It was curious. Like a kitten seeing new people in its sandbox.”

Derek brought his hands up to Stiles’ and removed them. He squeezed them one more time. “Let’s just go back.”

“Ok.” Stiles tried to take his hands back, but Derek kept one. He guided them back. Until the lake was in view again, Derek never let go of him.

“All set?” asked Cora.

“Yup,” Stiles pulled Derek by the arm and ran back into the water. He went along.


	8. Chapter 8

# 8

They stayed at the lake for hours. Talking, laughing, forgetting about the world outside. Derek was the most silent, but what little he said had Stiles almost drowning in laughter. They went back to the house when the sun started painting the skies pink and orange. They raced. Isaac and Scott tied in the first place because Cora was trying to make Stiles fall and Derek kept saving Stiles from it.

Melissa was having a cup of tea with Talia on the porch. “Hi, mom!” Scott kissed her on the cheek.

“You guys had fun?” Talia asked and then laughed as Isaac, Cora, and Derek shook the water from their hair on her.

“A lot!” said Stiles.

“Got all your energy out?” Talia asked.

“Yeah, most,” he shrugged. “But, shit, I could eat a whole cow right about now.”

Everyone laughed. “Language,” Melissa tutted him and hit him with the back of her hand on his leg. He scratched the back of his head and grinned at her.

“Your dad’s sleeping in your room.” Stiles perked up. “He tried to wait for you, but he was very tired.”

“Go,” said Melissa. “We’ll prepare something for you all.”

Stiles ran inside and up the stairs. How he did it without bashing his head into something was a miracle. He opened quietly the door and peeked inside. His dad was indeed there, snoring. Stiles smiled relieved. He even brought some more clothes, his pillow, and his pills. Stiles took the bottle and then went back down.

Melissa and Talia were heating something. Scott and Cora set the table. Isaac came in from behind Stiles. Then Derek appeared with a yawning Laura.

“Hey, kiddo,” she hugged Stiles. “Told you I’d bring him back safe.”

“Thanks,” he squeezed her. She too made him feel safe and sound. “Did you find it or made any progress?”

“Not really. We know it's not hiding in town. We’re searching the woods tomorrow. Boyd is on watch duty tonight.”

“Dad’s going back too?”

“Not tonight. We were all against it at the station.” Stiles exhaled easier. Laura pinched his cheek. “What is this? Why is your skin all sunburnt?” She made an outraged expression. “Did you all went to the lake without me?”

“We had to. Stiles would have jumped on the walls otherwise.”

“Traitors. Didn’t wait for me,” she muttered under her breath as she took a seat.

“You won’t believe this either,” Isaac stage whispered. “Derek laughed.”

She gaped. “My god! Are you feeling okay, DerBear?”

Derek’s ears blushed and scowled. “Stop being so theatrical. I laugh and smile all the time.”

Stiles bit his lip and saved in his mind the nickname. Cora, Scott, Laura, and Isaac looked at each other unbelievingly. Talia shook her head with a smile while Melissa chuckled at their antics.

“Who is this alien? Did you drown my real brother? Stiles, what have you done to him?”

“What?!” Stiles raised his hands, all doe-eyed and innocent. “I did nothing. He’s still the same old broody Derek, don’t worry. It was a bleep. I’m sure.”

Derek groaned and let his head fall to the table. “You’re all insufferable.”

Everyone laughed and started eating as the food was passed around. Stiles tried hard not to let his mind resurface the previous time he heard Derek say something similar to that. He took his daily pill, even if it was a bit late for the day. It would help him sleep better.

After getting their bellies full, Laura made them watch movies. Stiles half paid attention to them. Laura was on one side of him and Scott on the other. He had a good view of the TV and Derek. He was almost asleep in the first minutes of the X-men, under Laura’s warm arm. A blasphemy sure. But he was stress relieved now and felt secure. He spared a last glance to Derek looking at him. Stiles smiled. It was only natural his eyes closed of their own accord.

*

Stiles had no idea how he ended up the next day in this strange bed, with his dad shaking him awake. “Time for school, son.”

“Don’t I get a free day or something for my arm?” he slurred.

The sheriff chuckled. “Nope. I’m heading out first with Laura. Derek will drive you all to school.”

“When do I get my jeep back?”

“When I catch this thing. Bear through it, please.”

Stiles yawned and nodded. “Ok, Pops.” He felt his dad kiss his head and leave. He had no problem whatsoever with Derek driving him around town—or back to his loft—in that Camaro of his.

After a couple of minutes of almost going back to sleep, Stiles changed his clothes, shouldered his backpack, and went out. Derek was washing his face with cold water in the bathroom. Stiles stood in the doorway a moment.

“Hi there, morning,” he said sleepily.

Derek stiffened a moment and closed the tab. “Hey, there’s food in the kitchen.” Stiles nodded and closed his eyes, resting his head against the doorframe. “Coffee too,” Derek’s tone was quiet, close, as he passed by him.

Stiles shook himself and followed Derek downstairs. Isaac and Cora were at the table. Cora eating with her eyes closed. Isaac looking way too awake for this hour. Talia was seeping coffee.

“Good morning. Eat your scrambled eggs and drink your cup of coffee before going, both of you.”

Stiles let his bag slip to the floor and devoured the food. Derek stopped him from burning himself with the coffee. He grinned at him. Once all the food was gone and the cups empty, Derek stood from the table and grabbed his keys. “Let’s go.”

As soon as they walked out of the house, the coffee hit Stiles in full force. He took his pill from his bag and swallowed it dry. Cora and Isaac got into the backseat. She slept some more. First against the window, but slowly falling against Isaac until her head was on his shoulder. He didn’t dare move.

Stiles was riding shotgun with Derek, looking at him drive. Derek glanced at him from time to time. For a whole week, Stiles thought he’d never be back in this car. And now here he was. Stiles licked his lips the next time Derek looked at him.

“What are you doing today, _DerBear_?”

He glared at Stiles. There was fun and outrage in his eyes. “I’m picking up some of my work at the loft, bringing it to the house so I work close to mom.”

“Are you coming for us after school?”

Derek nodded. “After lacrosse training. Uh, nice game on Friday, by the way.” He winced.

Stiles gaped. “You were there?!” Cora shifted and Isaac shushed him. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I thought I saw you, but… Of course, you were there to watch Isaac play. Is that how you figured out my age?”

“No. Laura told me. At brunch.” Derek tried to make himself more comfortable behind the wheel.

“Oh,” he snorted, derisive, and looked away. “So much for the promise of calling, then. Never had a chance.”

Derek scowled at the street splayed before him. “I don’t usually go back on my word. I just-”

“Couldn’t help yourself with me,” Stiles finished for him tauntingly. He was good at pissing people off. His detention track record backed this.

Derek’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I- We shouldn’t have… It wasn’t right. It shouldn’t have happened,” he grumbled.

It was Stiles’ jaw’s turn to clench. “Do you regret it?” Derek kept quiet but his knuckles turned white and the silence was loud. “Wow, thanks. I don’t.” They stared heatedly at each other when Derek parked at the school. “I would do it again and again and _never_ regret it.”

“You guys done?” Cora mumbled.

Fuck. Stiles facepalmed and brushed his hair. He forgot about her. He didn’t mind talking about this in front of Isaac. But Cora was his sister. Her brother fucked him and she knew how much he liked it. That was bound to be awkward. Stiles gulped and got out of the car.

He let her out without meeting her eyes. She rolled her own and pulled him by his shirt. “Later, Derek.” Isaac scrambled after them. Derek sped away without a word. “Go ahead, Isaac.” Cora stopped once the Camaro was out of sight and let go of Stiles. Isaac left them alone in front of the gates. “Look. I don’t care that you guys fucked, okay? Nor Laura or mom.”

“Your mom knows?! Fuck,” Stiles groaned. Cora pulled him close via fist in his shirt.

“Don’t play with him or break his heart. Otherwise, not even your dad will save you from me kicking your ass to hell. Got it?”

Stiles stared at her and gulped. She was being deadly serious. Her eyes showed no mercy. She was terrifying. But was she… giving her blessing? On behalf of her family? Did that mean he had a chance with Derek despite how he’d been behaving? Stiles tried to smother down a smile and nodded. “Got it.”

She released him. “Let’s go then.”

“Wait, it’s not weird then?”

She rolled her eyes. “Kira fucks my cousin almost daily. It’s fine.”

Stiles laughed out loud and followed her into school. Allison was waiting for him at his locker. She hugged him “Oh, god! I was so worried all weekend! You forgot to send me a picture!” She hit him on his bad arm.

“Ow, ow, ow. Hurt man right here, woman.”

“Oh, sorry. Are you ok?” Scott came to put his arms around her shoulders then. “Hi babe,” she pecked him. Scott smiled foolishly.

“Right, forget all about me,” he mocked. “By the way, I found my Derek.” He bit his lip.

Allison squealed happily. “Really? Where? Who is he? Wait, how?”

Stiles gulped. “He’s Cora’s older brother.” He was both glad and mortified he hadn’t told them his name now. Allison gasped.

“Oh, god. Was it awkward? It must have.”

“Wait,” Scott was scrunching up his face confused, or disgusted, maybe both. “Your Derek? That means-” His eyes opened comically.

“Yeah, Scotty. I fucked Cora’s older brother. Well more like, he fucked me,” Stiles shrugged. For life, he added as an afterthought.

“I so don’t need the details.”

Allison was texting. “Lydia does. Danny too.”

Stiles felt his phone vibrating with notifications. He groaned and hid his head inside his locker. “I can’t handle it right now.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she patted his back. “You can’t stop Lyds from knowing.”

“Nothing can’t stop Lydia. Ever. From anything,” added Scott.

Stiles sighed and grabbed his stuff. “And what happened? How did he react?” asked Allison.

“He shies away from me unless he forgets himself, and he regrets it. Completely.”

“But,” Scott was frowning. “He was flirting with you yesterday, keeping you safe and all that. He laughed and joked.”

Stiles hit Scott on the shoulder. “Thanks for confirming that. Still, he regrets.” He sighed. “Something about my age and who I turned out to be.” He shrugged. “Guess I wasn’t who he expected.”

Allison looked expectedly at Scott, who knew Derek better than her. “Um, he’ll come around?”

“Yeah, you said your night together was amazing.”

“It was. And he’s obviously attracted to me, as Scott pointed out. Even Cora gave me the sister threat just now.”

“That’s a lot,” Scott said surprised.

“Maybe you need to give him a little push, you know,” said Allison and looked shyly at Scott, “like me.”

Stiles smirked as Scott smiled at his feet. “Maybe. I’ll see. I’m not letting him go.”

The bell rang. School and its knowledge were not enough to keep Stiles from thinking about what to do with Derek. How could he convince him it was worth a shot? Without of course mentioning how right and meant to be it felt. In between all his thinking, he was already dressed and ready for lacrosse training. Coach wouldn’t let him practice game plays but had him instead doing drills and suicides by himself.

One thing was for sure, Stiles thought as Derek came to sit next to Cora on the bleaches, he was either convincing him or getting rejected tonight.

Isaac and Stiles showered in the lockers before climbing into the backseat of the Camaro. Stiles’ leg jumped up and down with nerves. He tried not to look at Derek, afraid he’d read his intentions in his eyes. Isaac kept up a chat with him about their homework and such. Stiles had no idea what he was replying but, by Isaac’s face, it made sense.

When they got to the Hale’s house, Stiles had somehow promised to help Isaac with chemistry and Cora with math. He managed to make them understand their work of the day as dinner time was coming around. Derek had come back from a run five minutes before.

Stiles claimed they were done and climbed up just in time. Derek was fresh out of the shower, about to enter his room, when Stiles finished climbing the stairs. He openly stared. He daydreamed about Derek all the time, but he looked way better in real life, sinful in how the droplets fell prey to gravity over his pecs.

“Stiles,” Derek frowned and grumbled. His voice glued Stiles’ feet to the floor. He didn’t notice he had moved toward him. He stopped his raised arm from touching Derek and let it fall. Being this close to him felt charged but he didn’t want to push Derek’s boundaries. It didn’t exactly stop him from flirting and testing the waters.

He licked his lips and blinked up at him. “Derek,” he saw him draw breath to steel himself.

“What are you doing?” The frown was still in place.

“Nothing,” Stiles balanced himself on his tiptoes and talons and shrugged. “Just appreciating the view.”

He breathed deeply. “You’re Cora’s friend, my little sister, and Isaac’s, and Scott’s. You’re the sheriff’s son. You’re seventeen.”

“And? Those are several people we have in common.” Stiles bit his lip. “We should, you know, get along. We did yesterday and the other day, especially that other day.”

He gulped. “No. We shouldn’t. I’m six years older than you.”

“I don’t mind that. You’re sarcastic and funny, you get my sense of humor. I don’t see why not.” He licked his lips and looked at Derek from beneath his eyelashes. “And I know a guy who could confirm I only get better at, you know, with constant repeats and time.”

Derek glared at him. His arms bulged with the strength he was holding his towel. “Then go to that guy if you’re horny. Not me. Not- not ever again.”

It stung him. This was going downhill. He was unable to drop it. He was determined to have Derek in his life, in any way it may be. Stiles sighed. “That’s not what I was trying to say.”

Derek breathed deeply and looked away. “I know.”

“Then you feel it too? How we’re on the verge of something?”

Derek gulped. “Yes,” his voice sounded raw with the guilty confession. “But I stand my ground. You won’t get anything from me.”

“What about friendship then?” Stiles grinned at him, hopeful. Maybe friends first was the way to make a place for himself in Derek’s heart as he had done in one night in his.

“Could you be just friends with me?” Derek questioned him looking into his eyes. Stiles didn’t need to think that twice. If being friends backfired and they remained friends, he could accept that. He just wanted Derek in his life.

“Yes. Could you?” After a silent second, Stiles stepped closer, but Derek stopped him cold.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not happening. Walk away. Let it go.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say. A stampede echoed in his chest, withering his heart away and threatening to flee from his eyes. Derek didn’t even look at him when he said that. He didn’t meet his eyes in the centuries it took Stiles to take a step back. Stiles blinked several times. Not even friends.

“Wow. Fine.” Another step back, a gulp. “Yeah,” he scoffed. “I will.” He turned and went to his temporary room at the Hales.

After closing his door, he let himself fall to the floor. He smiled ruefully at himself and messed up his hair. He knew it was coming anyway, hadn’t he? With every time Derek turned and ran. It had been stupid and useless to hope something more would happen. Even with Cora’s blessing or Scott’s confirmation or the obvious attraction. Why would Derek want to be with him or want anything from him? He was completely out of his league. Guess he’d been harnessing an unrequited one-sided love. A broken crush didn’t feel like this, this foul sensation of Derek rejecting him. It felt wrong. He knew himself enough to realize he was enamored and completely smitten.

He exhaled shakily, trying to get a hold of himself. He would not cry. Not here. Not right now. It was late to call Allison or Lydia. He stood and took his laptop to bed. _The Amazing Spiderman 2_ was a fairly good reason to cry over, with Gwen Stacy dying so dramatically and all. He was thirty minutes into the movie when a knock came to his door. Stiles stiffened and waited for the voice on the other side.

“Food’s ready.” It was Cora. He breathed out.

“I’m not hungry, Cor.”

She opened the door and stood there with her arms crossed and a judging eyebrow. “Really now?” Derek’s door was wide open behind her and empty.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah…” He looked away, uncomfortable with the lie on his lips.

She came in and texted. “What are we watching then?” She put her phone away and settled on his right, her head on his shoulder.

“Um, uh- _The Amazing Spiderman 2_. You’re not hungry?”

“Nope.”

Isaac came in then, balancing popcorn and water in his arms. He shut the door close with his foot. He settled on Stiles’ left and hugged him, leaving his hand to play with Cora’s hair.

“I like this movie,” he said before grabbing a handful of popcorn and hitting play. Stiles looked from Isaac to Cora, then to his screen. It seemed they were all crying together now.


	9. Chapter 9

# 9

When he woke up, neither Isaac nor Cora were there. His laptop was off. And his dad was snoring in his ear. His alarm blared minutes later. He shut it before it woke his dad. It must have been late when he got in here. And Stiles must have fallen asleep after crying so much during the movie.

He changed in the dark and grabbed his things. He was swallowing his pill when he got to the kitchen. Only Talia was there.

“You must have been very tired yesterday to skip dinner,” she said as she put a very full plate in front of him. He ate a lot but there was no way he could eat that much. Not that morning at least. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” his voice was croaky. He cleared his throat. “I guess Coach made me do too many suicides.”

She hummed and twirled her cup of tea. “Your mother was a terrible liar too.”

Stiles stared at her. “You knew her.”

“We were close,” she nodded. “I knew she was pregnant when she left. She told me. I’m glad to see you’re handsome and healthy if a little heartbroken at the moment.”

He smiled saddened. Heartbroken sounded about right. “Moms never miss a thing, huh?”

“Never.” She held his hand tightly. “You inherited a lot from her. Her stubbornness, her eyes, her nose, how she loved. All or nothing.”

“Guilty,” he said to his plate, moving around the food, waiting for his stomach to wake up. “I don’t think she ever stopped loving my dad. She called for him when she- when she died.”

Stiles gulped down more tears with a mouthful as Isaac and Cora thread into the kitchen. Again, they patted his back. This was a family that touched and hugged each other a lot. It was nice. It reminded him of his mom. She could always find an excuse to hug him or kiss his hair.

Derek came in then. Instead of sitting next to him as the previous days, he stood twirling his coffee. Really? Was Stiles that awful? Derek truly disliked him that much? Then had he been faking it? The flirting. The glow of his smile? The sexing him up so deliciously? Stiles scowled down at his food. The foul, broken feeling inside him spread to his bones.

“You’re calm today,” pointed out Isaac.

“Meds do wonders,” Stiles’ smile didn’t reach his eyes. They ate fast, even the sleepy Cora. Stiles barely touched his food.

Soon Derek was grabbing his keys and leading them out. Stiles sat back with Isaac again, and rested his head on the window, watching the woods all the time. He’d rather be out there, running and forcing his body to its limit speed, until he was so tired, he couldn’t think straight.

He felt eyes on him. Isaac’s, Cora’s, maybe even Derek’s. He never turned or talked. By the time they got to school, Cora was fuming and Isaac was worried. Derek never turned around to look at him. So that was how it was, Stiles thought. Probable acquaintances in the future, who once had a fun night of sex. Not more, not less.

He sighed and walked behind a not-to-be-disturbed Cora, ignoring Isaac. He managed to avoid people in his locker and escaped to the field during lunch and his later classes. He made a mental recount of his interactions with Derek because he liked to suffer apparently. He tried to pinpoint what had gone wrong. Was it all Derek’s position against his age? It had hinted at that since Jungle. Lydia found him skipping out there. She sat next to him and waited in silence.

“You know, Cora threatened me not to break his heart. She never warned against him breaking mine,” he chuckled without humor.

Lydia caressed his hair. “He’s an idiot. Fuck him.”

“Already did. That’s what got me in this mess, with feels.”

And that was the real issue. Those came out of nowhere. They made him think Derek and him were meant to be, that they were perfect for each other. Each time Stiles laid eyes on Derek he knew there was something genuine growing there. Problem was he still thought the same but knew Derek wouldn’t let it develop.

She sighed. “Not what I meant and you know it.” She then took out an apple and some chips. “Eat. You’re making everyone worry.”

“Sorry,” he shrugged and pushed the food down his throat, not tasting it.

“I know puppies and wolf cubs stop eating when wounded or sad, never thought I’d see a human boy mope the same way.” He snorted. “We’ll get you a new boy toy, or girl, to cheer you up.”

“I don’t think it’ll work, but what do I lose by trying.” He shrugged. There was no way to get over Derek.

“That’s the spirit.” Lydia left him there and went to her final class. Allison had that period free and went to him.

“I know how to keep you out of your head. Come on. Follow me.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “We can’t run until we explode. So, what are you planning, oh cousin of mine? We’re not going to shoot arrows, are we?”

She giggled. “Nope. We’re going to bake cookies and research. Aunt Kate gave me a treasure hunt to share with you. It is weird. You like weird.” She shrugged and made a come-on gesture.

He stood up, sighed, and nodded. “I do. What is it?”

“She gave me this necklace,” she said as they approached her car and showed it to him. It was old, metallic, and carved, with a wolf at its center. “Told me to look it up. That and a really old legend where the Argents appear, supposedly. I have my doubts, honestly.”

Stiles snorted and put on his seatbelt. “I would doubt everything that woman said. No offense.”

She smiled with sweetness and backed up the car. “You don’t know her as I do. It’s natural. She said to look up the legend of _La bête du Gévaudan_.”

“Sounds French.”

“It is. Our last name comes from _argent_ , silver in French. You know the legend by chance?”

“I think I saw a link about it,” he frowned remembering his impromptu werewolf search at four in the morning the day of the attack. “Something to do with werewolves.”

Allison frowned too. Luckily, her house wasn’t that far from school and they were already parking. “Werewolves? Well, it’s a legend.”

“Legends used to be the truth or based on it during the old days,” he said and found his way to the kitchen. This was the second time werewolves entered his brain in less than a week. Coincidence? “Are we alone here?”

“But werewolves, Stiles?” She scoffed. “Yeah, Kate and Gerard went out with dad today. They’re helping to search for what attacked you.”

He shrugged his shoulders and started looking for ingredients and bowls. Allison brought down her laptop. “Well, silver, according to movies, is used to kill werewolves,” he raised an eyebrow. “The subject seems to be around werewolves. This,” he pointed at the pendant after he turned on the oven, “looks like a wolf if you ask me.”

Allison put the laptop near him, where he could prepare the dough and read whatever links she opened. “Let’s see what the fuss is all about, then.”

Hitting dough and dirtying his hands while reading about a mythological creature seemed to be the greatest method of distraction ever designed for Stiles. He could guide Allison through his steps and read up.

Once the cookies were in the oven, both of them focused on reading and looking up more information. An hour or more later, when everything still sounded crazy and fantastical, Stiles received a text.

_Where are you._ It was Derek’s number. He scoffed. Now he decided to make use of his number and text. After he’d decided not to have anything with him. He scowled. _Allison’s house._ Not a second later a response came. _Coming for you._ He clenched his fist. No, he wouldn’t.

“Everything ok?” Allison glanced at his fist and kept reading.

He snorted. “The man blamed for my moping demanded where I was and now says he’s coming to get me.” He frowned. “Can you drive me to their place later? I don’t want to see him right now.”

“Sure. You can have dinner with us and we’ll ask Aunt Kate more about this. Half of this is contradictory anyway.”

Stiles texted fast. _I’m having dinner with Ally. She’ll give me a ride._ No response came this time. He huffed, irritated. Where they only ever to interact under his terms? The timer went off. “Cookies are ready.”

Stiles showed Allison how to protect her face from the heat when she took out the cookies. As they put them on a bowl and blew on them to cool them, they talked about the existence of werewolves and laughed it off each time. It was impossible. How could it be?

“They would have been discovered by now for sure,” claimed Allison.

Stiles rejected that idea. “Nah. They would have probably kept close to themselves. We, humans, are too trigger-happy.”

A car parked outside. Allison and Stiles were digging into the first cookies when Kate entered the kitchen. “Good. You’re here,” she grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Did you do my task?”

They nodded. “ _La bête of Gévaudan_ is claimed to be half a man and half a wolf, more beastlike than human. It murdered a lot of people, and a woman with the last name of Argent was the one to kill it.” Allison resumed.

Kate nodded. “Good. Then you’re ready for the second part. Come with me.”

“Where?” he asked suspiciously.

“To show you a real werewolf.”

Allison almost dropped the bowl with recently baked goods. Stiles stared at Kate as if she were insane. But three is a pattern.


	10. Chapter 10

# 10

Stiles frowned all the way to where Kate was driving them. Somewhere in the middle of the woods. Good for hiding a body, or dumping one, or getting attacked by threatened animals. And yet, he’d been approached by a creature of the night in his room.

Kate parked and told them to follow. With a flashlight, she led them to a hidden passageway with a heavy gate and a lock. She kept the key under a rock. Predictable. Stiles rolled his eyes. She was like a terrible villain.

It was underground. Stiles and Allison walked together, their shoulders brushing. They looked at each other, confirming this was happening. This was real. Kate was very serious about werewolves. The slim passage smelled of dirt, moss, plants, and a little like blood. Stiles didn’t like where this was going. He grabbed Allison’s hand, ready to turn and run if something went wrong. Allison played nervously with the necklace. Finally, the passage opened up into several obscured rooms. The one at the end was illuminated and a slight buzz came from it.

Something was hanging at the far wall. Something Stiles recognized even in a different light. It was the creature that attacked him. The supposed mountain lion. The alleged werewolf. He froze. Allison stayed by his side. Her eyes and mouth were wide open.

“Recognize him, eh Stiles? This is the werewolf that attacked you.” She took out a gun from the back of her jeans. “I caught it for you to kill.”

Stiles gulped and stared at the gun, then back at the creature. A werewolf. His hunch at four in the morning had been right. Spot on. The werewolf looked more miserable than before. He was more hurt. There were bullet holes in his arms and abdomen. He shivered. Black veins spread from each hole. He seemed sick like he was being poisoned from inside out.

Kate hit the grill he was chained to with a plastic bar. “Electricity. It keeps them under.”

No. It didn’t, Stiles thought. The werewolf’s eyes were clear and full of pain. They begged at Stiles. He was dying. Slowly. Horribly. From wounds inflicted by Kate, most likely. Stiles took the gun from her and shot at him in the middle of his forehead. Allison jumped and held a hand over her mouth in a silent scream.

“Nice shot. But didn’t you want to make him feel what you felt? Your fear?” Kate pouted and turned off the electric shocks. As soon as she did, the werewolf turned human. Allison’s knees gave out. Stiles supported her weight, almost falling himself. A wolf and a man. Not half.

“I just wanted it dead,” Stiles said more strongly than what he really felt. He killed someone. Did he have a family? Where were they? Was he alone in the world? Or had Kate isolated him? He needed to focus on something else. “So, werewolves _are_ real.”

“And there’s a lot of them in Beacon Hills.”

That got a reaction from Allison. “What? There’s more like- like that?”

Kate nodded and took the gun back from Stiles. “They hide their nature with a human face. But they are all like this underneath. You know them. They pretend to be human. They’re not. They’re monsters. Every single one of them. And a danger to the rest of us. It’s good we know wolfsbane bullets stops them dead,” she smiled shaking the gun.

“We know them?” Stiles asked, scoffing. Allison looked at him, worried.

“Yes. Scott,” she said to Allison, who shook her head in denial. “The Hales. Those are just some, but the Hale pack is big within Beacon Hills.”

“The- the monthly meetings. Those…” She looked at Stiles, understanding coming to her.

“Always on the full moon, deep in the woods. We need to take them all out before they finish turning everybody into monsters like them.”

“They turn people?”

“Only an Alpha can do it. And Talia Hale is bent on rebuilding her pack bigger than before. I’m sure of it. You would even be her next recruit, Stiles. I don’t know why Noah led you straight to them.”

Even with this information, even when all their little knowing smiles and eyes received new meaning in his head, Stiles couldn’t reconcile the idea of the people he came to know with monsters. He just couldn’t. Something was wrong with Kate’s point of view. And it showed in the dead tortured man-creature hanging in front of them.

“You realize we have to confirm all of this before making a move, right?” he stated.

Kate smiled sweetly, like a viper. “Of course, honey. Talk it out with your dads. Your training will commence shortly after. Father and I will oversee it. It’s about damn time, I’d say. Let’s go back.”

The drive back was faster. Allison hadn’t let go of Stiles’ hand. Good thing too. It was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. Kate kissed both of them and went in. Stiles called his dad. Allison did the same.

“Hey, kiddo.” There was laughter in his voice and Stiles could hear Laura’s loud laugh in the background too. “Is Allison bringing you now? We’re waiting on you for dessert.” Stiles had to take a moment before answering. “Stiles?”

“Was your long explanation about mom and the attack related to werewolves?”

There was silence on the other end. “How-? For fuck’s sake. Goddamn it. Where are you? What did Kate say?”

Stiles snorted. “Language, Pops.” The tremble in his hand incremented. Allison squeezed him harder. “Is she right about the Hales? And Scott?”

“That woman…” hissed his dad. “We need to talk, son. I’ll explain.”

“You bet we need to. Oh, and Pops? You can stop looking for the one that attacked me. I-” He could feel bile in his throat. He regretted eating. “I shot him. It’s dead. Meet you back at our house.” He hung up.

Allison was hanging up too, looking bewildered. “Are werewolves real?”

Stiles tried to shrug off the uncomfortable tension on his shoulders. “Apparently. You saw me kill the one Kate tortured. Can you drive to my house?”

“I think so. Yes.” They got in the car. “You too figured Kate tortured it.”

“Yeah. And it was wrong. I don’t care what anyone thinks,” he challenged her with his angry eyes.

“Hey, don’t give me that look! I agree. It was so hurt… and sad.”

“He. It was a he, Ally,” his voice wavered. He cleared his throat.

“Are you ok?” She grabbed him again. He couldn’t answer that at the moment.

“Are you? You’re dating a werewolf.” He raised an eyebrow.

“His hesitance makes sense now,” she frowned. “I want to hear him out, though. To see it with my eyes.”

He nodded, then facepalmed. She might be dating one, but he fucked one. Three times. And still wants to do it, even after Derek broke his heart, even after he now knows Derek’s a werewolf. Monster or not, Derek was beautiful and profound and a _nerd_. Stiles couldn’t see him as a monster. He couldn’t. Was that part of his rejection? Was that why he was hotter than the rest? Was that why he never got sick?

“This is all fucked up. Is every pretty person in our lives a werewolf? Lydia, Danny, and Jackson too?”

Allison shook her head. “I think only the ones that go to the meetings are werewolves. So, Jackson too. Lydia and Danny were with us. They’re human, probably.” She frowned.

“Lydia’s too smart to be human,” Stiles retorted. It made both of them laugh. It felt surreal to laugh after knowing werewolves existed.

When Allison parked at Stiles’ house, Chris and Noah were waiting at the front door. Both were relieved to see them unharmed.

“Our talk won’t wait till morning,” Allison declared and shouldered her way in. Chris followed her.

“You okay, son?” The sheriff rested a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. He sighed.

“I’ll get back to you on that one, dad. Let’s get this talk out of the way first.”

Allison settled with her arms crossed and a glare that didn’t betray how unbalanced she felt inside. Stiles sat next to her and rested his arms over his legs. “Talk,” Allison demanded.

Noah nodded. Chris took a breath. “Werewolves have always been real. I’ve known this since I was eleven and Father made me shoot one.”

“I’ve known since my parents were killed by one. The Argents took me in and trained me, taught me everything they know, to defend myself and join the cause.”

“Mom knows too?” Allison asked. Stiles didn’t need to ask. If his mom got so well with Talia, going so far as to tell her about him and not his dad, she had known. And Rapha had also known; trained too and even trained him without ever telling him the reason why.

“Yes. She is at present the acting leader of the hunters. You are to be the next.” Allison tensed. Not Kate. Stiles breathed easier knowing that.

“Do you kill every werewolf that comes to town?” Stiles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, son. There’s a code. We hunt those who hunt us. And only those who have attacked or taken an innocent life.”

“You hunt too, Pops?”

“Not since your mom appeared in my life.”

“Then why,” Allison started, “why does Kate want to take out every single werewolf living in Beacon Hills? And I assume she means killing and disposing.”

Chris and Noah winced. “Your grandfather and my sister have had some… changes to our traditional worldview. I don’t know exactly what made them think this way, but they’ve viewed weres as monsters and a threat for years now. That’s why they only visit us for small periods.”

“They would have been gone by now if it weren’t for you, Stiles,” added the sheriff.

“Me? What did I do?” Stiles exchanged a confused look with everyone in the room.

“You exist,” Noah smiled. “They have it in their heads that Claudia was something magical. She was magical all right, in a human, charming way. Not an actual all-powerful witch like they seem to think.”

“And they think I’m magical too?” The sheriff nodded. Stiles huffed. Powers would have been nice while growing up. Something to keep him occupied and distracted when he needed it the most. “There’s nothing supernatural about me. I’m filled with sarcasm. Oh, wait, is that my witch trait?”

“You do attract a lot of animals to yourself,” Allison hummed. Stiles shoved her a little. She smiled at him and trapped his arm. He still tickled her until achieving his release.

“The gymnastics, the Argent tradition of weapons…” Allison wondered.

“The family business,” Stiles imitated Dean Winchester’s voice.

“It’s about hunting creatures and keeping humans safe. We’ve never once hunted someone who hadn’t attacked first or wasn’t guilty. And we always help those in aid, even the creatures.”

“How can you be sure? The one that came after me didn’t truly attack me. It grabbed me and wanted me to follow him and ran when I refused with violence. He was the victim then and Kate made me kill it. She was torturing him to a painful death. How is that following the code? Or helping the innocent?” Stiles rambled passionately.

“It is not,” Chris stood tall. “And Victoria will seek an adequate punishment. Both on that kill and the way she revealed all this. You weren’t supposed to know until you were both of age.”

“You both found out before that,” Allison narrowed her eyes.

“Not by choice,” the sheriff said.

“So, are werewolves monsters?” Stiles asked, entwining his hands under his chin, never taking his eyes from both men. This answer was crucial.

“No. They are people too.” The sheriff looked straight at Stiles. “Your mom helped me see that. Even helped me have a great friendship with Talia and her family. They feel more deeply than us, but are as smart or more.”

“I wouldn’t say that about Cora and math,” Stiles snorted. Finally, at ease with a worldview that fitted with what he’d witnessed in his short time in Beacon Hills. He would’ve fought everyone who called his friends monsters, no matter who they were.

“Or about Scott with History and English,” added Allison. “Is it because he’s a werewolf that you don’t approve of him? Because he might hurt me?”

“No,” Chris shook his head. “He assured me he’d rather die than hurt one single hair of your head. I was worried he might tell you before I could explain about our family.”

“You oppose because she’s meant to lead hunters and he’s what she would hunt,” Stiles sat back and looked at her. It was worse than Romeo and Juliet.

“I would never hunt Scott!” She stood up. Right when the bell rang.

“Come in,” the sheriff said in a normal tone of voice. Stiles turned his head to the door. In came Scott himself.

“Hi,” he said without looking at them, scuffling his feet, messing up his hair. A lovely Scott trademark of nerves. “I, uh, the sheriff asked me to come and show you a different shift?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “So, you don’t all turn into huge ass monsters with red eyes?”

He shook his head. “No. Only alphas have red eyes. Betas’ are gold. Some are blue. Electric blue.” Scott looked at Stiles when he said that.

It picked Stiles interest. Like his dog in the woods. Like what he thought Derek’s looked like back in the club. Could werewolves turn into actual wolves? He filed that information for later. “Why?”

Scott shrugged. “It just is. I don’t know. Talia should know the reason.”

“Shift,” Allison ordered to the ground.

Scott nodded and gulped. Then he straightened his shoulders, cracked his neck, and breathed. As he exhaled, his features changed. Stiles stared transfixed. Allison couldn’t look away either. Hair grew over his face. His forehead was thicker. His eyes glowed gold. His fangs looked sharp. The hair on his arms was darker too. The claws at the end of his hands reflected the lights.

Allison held herself as she looked at the man who kissed her and made her dreams feverish. A werewolf. She turned and went upstairs. Straight to Stiles’ room and closed the door with a bang. Chris and Noah went to the kitchen.

Scott shifted back and deflated. Letting the sadness show in the slowly fading glow of his eyes. “She’s crying,” he said.

“You can hear her?” Stiles rose his eyebrows impressed. Werewolves did have heightened senses, as their research had claimed.

“Yeah. I can also smell the wolfsbane gun residue on your hands, see well in the dark, carry cars single-handedly and heal almost anything instantly. Can I sit? You don’t smell scared of me.”

“That’s because I know you’re in reality a puppy, not a wolf. Sit, man. What else can you smell from me?”

Scott let out a sigh. “What you ate. Apple and cookies. That you’re in shock. Also, your heart’s super calmed right now. It’s weird. I’m used to it going fast, especially whenever you’re near Derek.”

“Oh, shit, really? You can hear that much?”

“Yeah. Could smell your arousal too,” he scrunched up his nose. “He can too, you know? He taught me all this when I was turned.”

Oh, goddesses, the things they knew about him just by smell. Stiles stopped that train of thought and filed it for a later freakout. “Did you choose to turn?”

“No. I was attacked. _Not_ by the Hales. It was a runaway crazy bastard that they put down. They helped me through all this. They are born weres.”

“They were born as werewolves?!”

“Yeah,” Scott cleared his voice a little and raised it some, so it would carry upstairs, hopefully. “They taught us control, what they start learning since they are two-years-old. Full moons don’t make us crazy, just fill us with a lot of energy from the moonlight. We all go running and play with each other, and have a huge barbeque.” He sighed and continued. “Talia’s asked me to invite you both over for the next one. So you can see it for yourselves if you want to.”

“I’ll go.” Stiles agreed. Then Scott stood up as Chris and Noah came back to the room.

“I’ll leave then. If you have anymo-” His head snapped up. A move Stiles often saw him do, but with more subtlety. It made sense it was because he could hear something Stiles could not. “I- Is it okay if I go up?” He asked Chris.

“If she is asking for you, I have no objections.”

“Condoms are on the side table,” Stiles gave his permission as well. It was worth it how Chris, Scott, and his dad blushed. Scott hanged his head and took the stairs two at a time.

Chris took his leave as well. He knew Allison needed space and this house would work just fine for that. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do, but we’ll be okay, Chris. Don’t worry. She’s always safe here.” The sheriff finally sat next to Stiles on the couch. “How are you holding on, son? Truly. You have a great poker face.”

Stiles grinned. “I honestly don’t know, dad. It’s interesting and surprising to learn all this, quite a world-changing view to know werewolves are real and go bumping in the night _and_ day. I have a lot of questions. What else is real? Were mom’s stories all true then?”

“Of course she told you night-stories about werewolves,” the sheriff smiled lovingly and shook his head.

“Not only werewolves, dad. She spoke of fairies, unicorns, mermaids, witches, _dragons_.” He gesticulated wildly. “And what about the goddesses and the spark? Are those real too? Have I always been crossing paths with all of them unaware?”

“I don’t know about most of that, but witches are real at least.”

“Harry Potter style or Gandalf style?”

“I think every style, good and bad.” The sheriff grabbed Stiles’ hand. It was still trembling. He didn’t know how to make it stop. “What about shooting a werewolf? About taking a life? You want to talk about that?”

Stiles breathed shakily. His calm masquerade giving way to sadness and the guilt eating at him. “I- I had to kill him, dad. You would have done the same if you had seen what Kate did. I don’t know how to hurt one. But if that bullet killed him instantly, I’m glad. And angry that Kate chose differently. He was being electrified and had bullet and arrow wounds. All over. Everywhere. He was hanging by chains.”

Frustrated tears accumulated in Stiles’ eyes. Noah hugged his son tightly. If he could do something about Kate, he would have done it years ago. “I’m sorry you found out like that, Stiles. Werewolves are strong and amazing creatures. Loyal and loving. You were merciful, even after he went after you, whatever his reasons.” He let the silence be for some minutes. He caressed Stiles’ hair until his shoulders stopped shaking. “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll wait for Scott.”

Stiles nodded. His hands stopped trembling at least. Before he went up though, he needed to ask something. “Dad? Was the werewolf who attacked me the one who killed that girl?”

The sheriff sighed. “No. It was made seen like a werewolf kill. She was cut in half by a human.”

Stiles gulped and nodded. He went upstairs and straight to the bathroom. His bag was outside his door. It had the stuff they had taken to the Hales. He grabbed it. There were clean clothes inside, even the shirt Derek had lent him for the lake.

He undressed and stayed under the hot water for several minutes. Was being a werewolf the reason why Derek rejected Stiles? Because he was supposed to become a hunter too? He might not have the Argent last name, but Rapha had trained him all the same, as he had trained, as his dad had trained.

Stiles’ didn’t want to be a hunter if it meant killing the people he came to love in Beacon Hills. He fell to his knees. He would go mad if he was forced to shoot Derek as he had to today. They might not be anything but Stiles realized something. If Derek died, if he vanished from this earth, Stiles would die with him. A sob left his lips. Stiles loved him. Despite all. Because of all.

He wanted to know more. It seemed like each small piece he discovered about Derek, showed him that there was so much more to find. He would never have the chance for that. Stiles cried and tired himself out. When the water started getting cold, he got out. He didn’t even really shower. He put on his pajamas, forcefully not looking at Derek’s shirt.

He left the bathroom at the same time Scott exited his room. “Hey.”

“Hey, you feel better?”

“Some. How is she?”

Scott looked back at the door mournfully. Stiles felt his sadness. “She- she needs time. But I think it’s over,” he tried to smile and failed. It should be against the law to make Scott McCall sad. “I get it. I never dared to hope when Talia told me her legacy. But I couldn’t say no when she-” He stopped himself before coming to tears. Stiles hugged him, surprising him. “You don’t hate me? Him? All of us?”

“Why would I? You are what you are. I understand why you didn’t tell me if you ever planned to.”

Scott tightened his arms around Stiles. “We wanted to. Talia was talking to your dad about how to do it best. But the attack on you accelerated it all, I guess.”

Stiles nodded and patted his back. “Don’t give up hope, man. It doesn’t suit you. She’ll come around. I know it.”

Scott shrugged. “I’ll respect whatever she decides, even if it kills me. You coming to school tomorrow?”

Stiles shook his head and looked at his door. “I don’t think so. We need to think. I’ll go to train though. Coach would have my head otherwise.”

Scott laughed and sniffed. “Yeah, he would. Rest. You look like you need it.” He patted Stiles on the shoulder and left with defeat on his shoulders. Stiles felt for him, he did.

Allison was looking outside his window when he came in. “Do you believe them?” she whispered. Her voice was carefully blank and devoid of emotion.

“Yes, they make way more sense than Kate.” Stiles threw his towel over his chair and walked the rest of the way to her.

“But they lied to us.” Her hands gripped harder the window’s frame. Her nose was red and her eyes were puffy. Her frown was dark.

“Technically, we never asked them if they were human, so they didn’t lie. We assumed they were human. They didn’t reveal a deep truth that could risk their lives and ours, probably.” He rested his head against the window, looking up to the half-moon. Did he stare at the moon like Stiles? With a mourning heart?

Allison turned to look at him, surprised. “You’re not mad.”

“No.” He clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. “Kate made me kill one of them, Allison. She took the choice out of my hands. I’m angrier with her than with werewolves being my friends.”

“Are they still our friends?” she frowned down to her hands.

“Yes. They are.” The confidence in his voice eased something in her shoulders. He confirmed what her heart desired.

“Would you shoot again if it was one of them in those chains?”

“I’d try to save them first.” Stiles felt the truth of it in his bones. Talia was right. He was just like his mom. He either loved you deeply or didn’t care at all. He chose love with werewolves since the moment he laid eyes on all of them, even if he didn’t know what they were at that moment. “If they were beyond hope, like the one from today, I’d cry as I pull the trigger and ask them to forgive me.”

Allison hugged him and nestled her face on his neck. “I don’t know what to do about Scott. I don’t want to leave him, but I don’t want him to lie.”

Stiles held her and caressed her hair. “I can promise you that Scott will never lie to you unless it’s somebody else’s secret or it puts you in danger. He would even tell you if he couldn’t tell you.”

He felt her bristle. “I can protect myself just fine. I’m an archer!”

“What if an arrow or a bullet can’t do a thing and he knows that?”

She sighed. “I know. I’m being silly.”

“We get to stand on our high horse for a couple of days. They’ll do and answer all we ask them. Because this wasn’t how we were meant to find out. Kate threw us into it.” Stiles stayed quiet a moment. “Do you believe in her views?”

She bit her lip and took a step back. “No, but I want to understand why they are monsters to her. I can’t see Scott as a monster, even when he changed in front of my eyes.” She added as a whisper, “I-I think I love him. Is that wrong?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “No, it isn’t. They’re still the same people we know. They just have a cool Halloween costume anytime they want.”

Allison giggled and hugged him again. She cleaned her tears from her cheeks. “Can I sleep here with you? I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.”

He shrugged. “Sure. Do you want to take a shower? I can lend you pajamas.”

“Yeah.”

He searched his drawers for something clean. Then she went to wash. Stiles let himself fall on his bed. Was he choosing right? He closed his eyes and recalled every moment in Beacon Hills, every person he’d met. His uneasiness against Kate and Gerard made sense now too. They wanted something out of him and manipulate him to their advantage, even if they weren’t sure he had it.

Allison came back to his room and made herself a spot at his side, thankfully before he started thinking about Derek again. “Better?”

“So much. It’s like washing away my doubts.”

“We can skip school tomorrow. Where do you wanna go?”

“Let’s just hide and watch monster movies and compare.”

Stiles laughed. “I don’t think they’ll be accurate.”

“That’s the point.”


	11. Chapter 11

# 11

They did watch terrible movies the next day. The werewolf transformations were so much different than what Scott had shown them. They could only withstand a couple of those before switching monsters. Vampires seemed regal but were they real? The sheriff hadn’t said. Witches could have any shape and type of magic. Ghouls seemed like an awful thing to exist. Did ghosts exist?

The sheriff knocked on their door around two in the evening. “I’m heading out, you guys okay?”

“Yeah, Pops. I’ll go to lacrosse training in a bit, give Ally a ride too.”

He nodded. “Ok. Just a last note. Talia is more than happy to chat with both of you.”

“Me too?” Allison asked surprised.

“Yes. You’re not a hunter yet, but she knows you will be. She’d like to introduce her pack formally and give you a warm welcome before you begin all that and are drilled with ideas and codes.”

She twisted her borrowed shirt. “What if I don’t want to be a hunter?” she whispered.

“Then your parents are getting a hell of a surprise. She’ll still talk with you.” He knocked on the door frame. “Later, kids.”

“Bye, Pops! Be safe!”

“Always am!”

Stiles stood up and changed. The wound on his arm was almost completely gone. “I’m coming with you.” He nodded. He had figured as much. United front and all.

“Let’s go. We’ll buy some muffins on the way and pretend we baked them.”

*

It was awkward when they arrived at school. Scott, Jackson, and Isaac were a little skittish. Cora was just glaring to the horizon. Lydia and Danny watched it all over with poker faces.

Cora snapped. “Well then? What’s our sentence?”

“Cora!” hissed Jackson. Scott slumped and tried to make himself look smaller next to Isaac.

“Like you don’t wanna know too,” she grumbled and crossed her arms.

Stiles laughed. All heads turned to look at him. It gave him whiplash. “It is priceless when Cora snaps at Jackson.” Allison smiled too. It was a familiar sight, a familiar setting. Allison nodded at Stiles and held his arm. “We’re cool with you guys being furries.”

Jackson looked outraged. Scott confused. Cora and Lydia rolled their eyes. Isaac sniggered. “We are _not_ furries,” growled Jackson.

Stiles hummed and balanced his weight on his toes. “Do you grow hair all over your body?”

“Yes,” he grumbled.

“Are you an anthropomorphic animal?”

“Yes…”

“Furries.”

“I resent the term.”

“Noted.” Stiles grinned.

Scott stayed back. Allison approached him. He froze. She grabbed his hand and hanged her head. He didn’t seem to be breathing. She sighed and searched his eyes. “This is… quite a thing to get used to. Let’s take it slow, one step at a time, yes?”

Scott’s shoulders released their tension, though sadness still lurked in his eyes. He scuffled his feet as he nodded. “Yes, I understand.” He looked into her eyes. “I’ll do anything, answer everything. I won’t lie to you, I promise. And I will keep you from harm.”

“What is all this hippie stuff?!” yelled Coach as Allison pecked his cheek. “Do we come here to hug and sing around?! No! Time to train, boys! And girl!”

“Does Coach know he has three wolves on his team?” Stiles wondered in a low voice.

“He has no idea.” Isaac snickered. “We also have a kitsune.”

“A what now?”

“Kitsune,” Kira said suddenly at his right side. “A Japanese fox. Me. Malia is a werecoyote.”

Stiles raised and let his arms fall in a dramatic gesture. “Is anyone human here?” he hissed.

“I am,” said Danny.

“Wait. Lydia is something too?”

“Yeah. She’s a Banshee,” Jackson said with pride.

“Oh, shit. That’s some serious creature. She was already terrifying and amazing without being something deadlier. Literally.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Isaac patted his head.

The whistle sounded right by their ears then. Coach ran them down hard, taking advantage of having his whole team on board again. Just because they had won the first game did not mean they could start slacking. By the end of training, all humans fell to the ground panting. At least the wolves and kitsune pretended to be tired as well. Stiles saw through them and narrowed his eyes at them.

“Do you have supernatural stamina?” Scott nodded and grinned. “So unfair,” Stiles panted. “How do you manage not to run as fast as you can when you have the ball and a shot?”

“Practice,” Jackson shrugged. Isaac started picking up the gear off the ground.

Once his breathing returned to normal, Stiles stood up and picked up his stuff. “Scott, I’m giving Ally a ride, you want one too?”

“Yeah, man. Thanks.”

“Cora, Isaac. Is-” Stiles bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to keep going. “Is Derek coming for you? Or you need a ride?”

“No. We run back. It’s easier.”

Stiles nodded at Isaac’s answer, trying to tell himself he was not disappointed. Or that he was not trying his hardest to keep that bottle of misery and unanswered questions inside of him barely from exploding.

They were all turning their own ways when Cora grabbed softly his hand. “Do you regret it now? Sleeping with him.”

Stiles looked into her eyes. She felt like crying as she saw and smelled his broken feelings, his resignation. “No, I don’t. It opens a whole lot of possibilities that I won’t get to explore. I’m sure you heard what he said to me.”

“He’s an idiot,” she growled seriously.

He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I still-” He cut himself before he blurted out the L-word. He was so not ready for announcing that. Ever. Yeah, he’d thought of it before. But now that it wasn’t a remote possibility, it was best to not think about it. Ignorance was bliss and all that jazz. “Does that make me a groupie or furry lover or something?”

She grinned mournfully. “Maybe. I think the hunters would call you mutt lover.”

“Mutt? That’s rough,” he frowned.

“Better than monster.”

“I can’t see you as monsters. I can’t” He squeezed her hand. “You’ve been way too kind and awesome to a new person here. And you suck at math.”

Cora hugged him and smacked his head at the same time. “I’ll go with you to Jungle next time. I heard Lydia’s suggestion.”

“Sweet. Let’s go this weekend.” She nodded and walked away. Stiles got in his jeep and drove Allison home first. The ride was silent as Allison and Scott sensed Stiles needed to get himself together.

“Don’t believe in everything they say,” Stiles said as they parked outside her house and Scott hid in the backseat.

“I know. We still need to hear Talia out. Aunt Kate will try though.”

“Gerard too,” muttered Scott.

“You know him?” Allison pretended to ask Stiles.

“Yeah,” Scott sounded uncomfortable. “He once threatened to kill my mom if I didn’t put distance between us.”

“He what?” she muttered angrily. Then glared at the windows of her house, probably to where Gerard was staying over. “Your mom is a wonderful person. He is stupid if he thinks I’m fool enough to buy his words now.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to turn you against your family.”

“Not your fault, Scott. He’s the one damaged in the head apparently. I’m uncovering all the dirt.” She got out and entered her house of lies and hidden truths.

Stiles sighed and turned the car around. A couple of blocks over, Scott jumped to the front. “Will you be a hunter too?”

“No way. I rather fight next to you than against you, my brother from another mother soon to be stepbrother.”

Scott grinned broadly and half hugged him, trying not to kill both of them while Stiles drove. “Man. You have no idea how worried we all were.”

“I can imagine.”

*

Life went back to normal after that. School remained the same. His group of friends remained the same. Only now both he and Allison were in on the jokes. And, boy, the dog jokes were never-ending.

Stiles had wanted to speak again with his dad all week, but their schedules didn’t match up until Friday after practice. Still, Stiles had little time to engage with his dad. They were going that day back to Jungle to distract him. The dog jokes and werewolf curiosity were not enough to get away from his broken heart.

The sheriff was chilling and watching TV while Stiles cut up some vegetables for dinner. He would need the food in order not to get a horrible hangover. He was planning to drink as much as possible; he would need it to hook up and forget.

“Hey, Pops…” Stiles gulped down his anxiety. He needed to say it out loud. Everything he’d been thinking about him and Derek; well, part of it. When his dad hummed, Stiles continued. “Remember the last time I went to Jungle and hooked up with someone?”

The sheriff scratched his neck uncomfortable but nodded. “Yeah. Are you planning on that today again?” Stiles got a little inside his head, making the sheriff look at him. He sensed the struggle from his son. He stood up and went to the kitchen. “Stiles? Something you want to say?”

Stiles bit his lip. “Yeah. I… The guy… it was Derek,” he whispered.

The sheriff’s eyes almost went out of his head. It had seemed rather curious that Stiles stared at Derek like he knew him, but they could have seen each other in town or something. He didn’t know how to feel about it. “Okay. And?” He’d let Stiles help him decide how to react.

Stiles looked up surprised. “You’re not… mad? Or horrified?”

His dad frowned and analyzed him. “Should I? Did he hurt you?”

“No!” Stiles let the knife down and stared at it without seeing it. If he really focused, he could still recall the feel of Derek’s skin in his hands. “At least not in a physical way…” As his dad remained silent, he looked up and explained. “He kind of… broke my heart?”

The sheriff sighed saddened and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Well, son, there are more guys out there. And girls. You have twice the amount of options available for you.”

Stiles huffed out a little laugh. “Yeah…” he gripped the knife harder and let slip his confession. “…but there’s only one Derek Hale in this world.”

The sheriff scrubbed his son’s hair. “You really like him, eh?”

Stiles bit his lip and nodded. He knew it to be something stronger but refused to say it out loud. Even when his eyes remained sad, a tiny blush invaded his face. “Are you okay with that?”

His dad crossed his arms and looked at him confused. “Yes, why wouldn’t I?”

“Well…” he shrugged. “His older… and a werewolf.”

“I have no problem with him being a werewolf. The older part is… harder, but what’s done is done. Besides, Derek’s a nice guy, except when he’s breaking my son’s heart. Should I arrest him for that?”

“What? No! What are you talking about?” Stiles started up cutting vegetables again with a more intense blush. “Besides, it won’t go anywhere with him. I’m moving on. From him. Jungle’s for that tonight. For moving on, to get him out of my system.”

“Are you sure you want that? You sound like you’re convincing yourself to do it.”

He smiled ruefully and shrugged. “I’m most likely only going to drink and fail. But I have to start somewhere, don’t I?”

*

Jackson, Lydia, Allison, and Danny picked him up from his house in Lydia’s car. Danny tried to rile Stiles up with excitement asking his type and likes. Not surprising anyone, he described someone completely different to Derek. If he was to move on via hook-up with a stranger, again, then it needed to be with someone who didn’t remind him of his wolf.

Lydia and Jackson signed up immediately to help him find the right guy. Danny would too, but the man had needs and Isaac was off the table with Cora being present. He did accept, as Allison and Lydia, to drink as much as Stiles did that night. Stiles accepted the challenge wholeheartedly. He was going to get all of them _so_ drunk.

When they parked, the rest were already there. They greeted each other. Stiles smiled at Cora’s frown and at Kira trying to calm down a very happy werecoyote.

“Let’s get shitfaced!” he yelled before flashing his fake id and entering. Malia hooted with him.

As Danny had called the club, they had a table reserved for them and a waiter willing to bring them anything and everything in exchange for a juicy tip. Stiles started them all by ordering two consecutive rounds of tequila shots.

Before he could drink them up, Lydia put some purple powder on the supernaturals’ drinks. “It’s a little bit of wolfsbane. Not enough to hurt them but enough to let them get drunk,” she explained to him.

Once that was set, they all lifted the shots in each hand. “Bottoms up!” Stiles screamed before emptying them. The others followed his example and grimaced at the taste.

Stiles hailed the waiter and asked for a drink with vodka, on the strong side, for him and Danny, and rum and coke for Allison and Scott. Kira asked for a beer and Malia for whiskey. Lydia asked for a bottle of wine and vodka. Jackson ordered a bottle of rum too.

The waiter didn’t waste time and minutes later brought everything to their table. Stiles downed half his glass and demanded the others did too, before pulling Cora to start their own dancefloor next to the table.

“Shake it to the beat, Cora!” he screamed in her ear.

“I can hear you just fine, Stiles!” she yelled back at him and laughed.

Stiles nodded and danced with her and the glass on his hand. He was finishing it, Cora’s concerned gaze on him at all times when Danny joined them with Allison and Lydia and gave him a new one. He pushed a beer into Cora’s hand.

“Refills, yes! Thank you, man!”

Kira and Malia started their bubble. Scott was timid but danced too. Jackson held Lydia’s hips freely as they danced. Stiles had to shake Isaac into movement or else he’d stare at Cora all night.

Derek who, Stiles thought each time he emptied a drink and served himself another. Danny and Allison were struggling to keep up with him and how he switched from vodka to rum to beer and back again. But Lydia, faithful to her wine, followed him just fine in number of glasses drank. Isaac wasn’t far from them sipping glass after glass for liquid courage. Even half-way to drunk Stiles could tell.

An hour later, Jackson ordered them another three bottles. Malia gulped down half of the rum and a beer when she realized the night was meant to keep up with Stiles’ drinking speed. Kira watched her worriedly. The only ones maintaining all their senses were Jackson, Scott, Cora, and Kira. Though they too nursed their beers close.

“Stilesss, time to look for a guy,” Danny slurred. He nodded and held close his glass.

“We’re goin’ for a round and come back. If we don’t,” Stiles smiled, “we’re getting bj’s in the bathroom.” He laughed as Danny dragged him away at Cora’s grimace.

They bumped into some people and apologized with giggles. Stiles saw a guy with dark hair and turned into the first blond in his path and kissed him. Danny pulled him to the bathroom, peeing needs arising. Stiles winked at the guy and went to release himself from so much alcohol. The guy looked around himself confused.

“So, we after blondes tonight?” Danny asked with hard-gained balance.

Stiles looked up to the ceiling without seeing it. “Anyone that doesn’t look remotely like Derek,” he muttered.

“Derek who?”

Stiles snorted. “Exactly.” He gulped down his drink and led Danny out.

The music hit them fully. They went to the bar for refills of whiskey. Then, Danny challenged him to get on the scenario. He laughed on his face. Drunk Stiles feared nothing. They grinded every single guy that was up there too. Then, returned laughing to their table.

“Your glasses are full and ours are empty, Lyds and Alli! You’re falling behind!” he blinked several times. The girls were kissing. “Fuck, yeah! Get it, women!”

Malia was dancing on top of some sofas with an embarrassed Kira. Isaac was finally holding Cora’s hand as he twirled her and danced with her. Stiles had never seen them that happy.

Allison giggled and held on to his neck as he served himself more vodka. Lydia was now kissing Jackson into oblivion. He should’ve slowed down but at last, he was starting to shut up his brain. Scott threw them a worried glance. Stiles pulled him so he’d be behind Allison and the three started dancing that way.

*

Stiles had no idea how he ended up going alone to the bathroom. He’d lost complete count of how much he’d drank already. He had to plant firmly each foot before taking a step. He didn’t know how much time had passed either. The music was good and the alcohol was now like water to him. He laughed at himself as he tried to pee in the right direction.

“Hello again, pretty-boy,” a voice behind him said.

Stiles had the afterthought of tucking himself in his pants before turning. It was the blond he’d kissed on their first round. He chuckled. “Hi.” He took a step toward the exit and swayed dangerously.

“Woop, op,” the blond said as he grabbed him from the waist. “Careful there, love. It’d be a shame to hurt your pretty face.”

Stiles looked through hazy eyes at the guy and smiled. “Me pretty?” The guy wasn’t so bad himself. He was lean but strong. His hands were a little cold but it was all the better like that.

“Yeah, you love.” The blond kissed his neck slowly. “What’s your name?”

Stiles giggled again. Alcohol always made him do that. “Shtiles.” The blond grabbed his chin and kissed him deeply. Stiles frowned trying to keep up but he needed air. He started feeling dizzy. “Urgh, not good.”

“Want to get out of here?” Somehow his cold hands were directly over his ass. “Fresh air will do you good.”

Stiles hummed and nodded. Carrying most of Stiles’ body weight, the blond took them outside. Then, he pushed him against the building to keep kissing him. When Stiles shoved his head to the side, gulping air in big heaves, the blond started ravishing his neck again and tugging at his jeans.

“Wait…” Stiles slurred. “I don feel sho good…”

“I can give you something to make you feel better,” he pushed Stiles’ hand over his dick.

“An injection o’ blissssssh?” Stiles giggled and closed his eyes. The air was good on his feverish mind.

The blond chuckled and put something on his tongue. “Open up,” He patted Stiles cheek until he woke him up some. “Come on, open up.” Stiles obliged. The blond slipped him a pill with his tongue. Out of habit, Stiles swallowed it. “That’s for your head.”

“Wha-?” Stiles frowned. Far away, bells were ringing in his head. The blond tried to kiss him again but Stiles narrowed his eyes at the cold hands beneath his shirt. He didn’t want cold. He didn’t like the cold. He wanted warmth. He wanted the rough tenderness of wolfish hands. He wanted Derek. “Who ar’ yu?”

“The guy who’d make it all better, remember?” He rubbed his dick against Stiles’ and held him strongly. “The injection of bliss?”

Stiles shook his head and tried to focus. “No…” For a second, he thought he heard his name being called. Were his friends outside taking some air too? The blond moved his head back to kiss him more. “Wa- wait…” He hmphed as the guy silenced him again with his lips.

Then the blond guy was ripped off of him. “He said _no_ ,” was growled.

Stiles blinked blearily as warmth finally arrived and surrounded him. He rubbed his nose against a firm, muscled chest and practically melted. He let out a sigh. “Der’k,” he whispered in a smile.

Stiles felt him take a deep breath and then direct him far from the blond. “Time to leave, Stiles,” he grumbled.

Stiles giggled, then gasped and took a step away from Derek. “But Danny! And Ally! And Lyds! And all-” Derek pointed at his back. Stiles swung around, Derek had to hold him upright by the waist. The others were outside too. “Hi, guys!”

Allison was completely unconscious in Scott’s arms. Jackson was holding Lydia and Danny, both of them trying to remain awake. Cora was taking on Isaac’s weight on her back, though he was still conscious mumbling nonsense and nuzzling her hair. She was blushing. Kira had Malia on a tight waist hold.

Stiles laughed at the picture they made. He turned to see if Derek was watching it too but a light distracted him. He gasped and, somehow, managed to release himself and cross the street chasing the light.

“Stiles!” Both Cora and Derek yelled but only he went after him. Before he could go into the woods, Derek pulled him back by the arms. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Stiles looked up to Derek and held his face in his hands. “I can see the air glowing,” he muttered. Derek blinked and frowned.

“You what? How much did you drink?”

“Don’ kno’.” He let all his weight fall back on Derek’s arms and hummed. “Vodka, beer, rum, wine, tequila. And repeat,” he jumped up and pointed to the sky. “Oh, an’ tha’ pill guy g’ve me to feel bette’!”

Derek scrubbed his face. “Great… Any idea of what it was?” he grumbled and tightened his hold on him.

Stiles shrugged and beamed at him. “Som’th’n’ amazin’ ‘cuz you’rrr here.” Derek gulped down and away. “No, no,” Stiles pulled his face up. “Don’ look away,” he pushed their foreheads together. “Your ey’s arre ev’rythin’.”

“Stiles, we-”

“Shhh,” he frowned, then stared at his lips. “Do you thin’- No, no.” Stiles gripped his dark blue shirt. “You sa’d no way in hell,” he sniffled. He looked back up into his eyes. They looked pained. “Ev’n in my head I sh’uld respec’ that’,” he whispered.

Derek scowled. “In your head? Stiles, I’m right here.”

Stiles laughed and it was sad, hollowed. “You alw’ys say tha’… and wh’n I wake you’r not.”

Derek kept quiet a moment. Then, he took a deep breath. “Well, I’m here right now,” he mumbled. “You can kiss me.” Stiles shook his head. Derek caressed his cheek gently. “Kiss me, Stiles.”

Stiles bit his lip with wide-eyes, unbelieving, hopeful. Derek nodded. Stiles glanced at his lips. With trembling hands, he touched his beard. Insecure, he pulled his lips over his.

It was marvelous. It was even better than he remembered. That feeling of being the one and only person on earth loved was back. Even when the kiss was slow, Stiles moaned. This was bliss.

The small breeze that surrounded them, keeping them away from the rest of the world, settled down as their lips separated. Stiles hid his face in Derek’s neck. A tear traced his cheek as he felt his warmth in this clouded inebriated hallucination of his.

“Let’s take you home,” was the last thing he heard before letting sleep take him under.


	12. Chapter 12

# 12

Opening his eyes was a terrible idea. Stiles groaned and grabbed his pounding head with care. Even with the curtains, he could feel the sun shooting harmful light into his eyes.

“Come on,” Scott mumbled. “Drink this,” he nudged his arm.

“Urrrrgh, don’t speak so loud,” Stiles hissed.

They had agreed on their tenth drink that Stiles would crash with Scott and that Jackson would take back to Lydia’s house Allison, Danny, and Lydia herself. Cora and Isaac already lived together, but Kira and Malia would also join them there.

Scott chuckled. “I’m already whispering, Stiles.”

Stiles hid his head underneath the pillow and groaned again. “Cancel today, Scotty,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to face it.” Scott tried to smother his laugh but still, some of it reached him. Stiles punched Scott with his pillow.

Scott barked out his laugh. He helped Stiles sit up and gave him a glass of water. “Easy.”

Stiles sighed once it was empty. “Oh, goddesses. That was good.”

Scott was staring at him. He cleared his voice. “So, how was it with you and-”

Stiles gasped. “I hooked up with someone? Really? I didn’t think I’d… I mean I dreamt about Derek, as usual...” he frowned. Alcohol could work miracles.

“You don’t remember?” Scott narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Stiles scratched his head and belly. “You and I dancing with Allison. Was he hot at least?”

Scott shook his head, looked down, and shrugged. “You kissed with a guy for a while outside but that was it.”

“Oh,” Stiles stared at his hands. Then he couldn’t go through with it. As he had suspected, not even with liquid courage could he fuck another guy. It was too fresh. Or maybe he just needed to back off from guys. Maybe if he’d try again with a girl it’d do the trick?

His phone vibrated then. Scott gave it to him. “It’s Allison… and Danny,” he mused surprised. _I’m never drinking with you again_ , she said. _I hate you right now_ , he said. Stiles laughed.

“What did they say?” Scott jumped over his legs and read over his shoulder.

“That’s what happens when you try to match my speed. Ouh, ouh,” he cringed at his loud voice. “Ok, I might hate me right now too.” Stiles then looked at Scott. He seemed more relaxed than the day before. “Hey, something happened with Ally? You look ok now.”

Scott grinned down to his hands. “She said she loved me,” he mumbled.

Stiles smiled for him. “Well, drunks and kids never lie.”

“I know.”

“Just give her time to appreciate your furriness,” he gesticulated wildly at Scott’s everything. He nodded.

Stiles’ stomach growled then. “You’re hungry after all that alcohol yesterday?” Scott’s eyebrows were high.

“Always, dude.” He slapped Scott’s arm. “Hey! Let’s go for pancakes and curly fries! I’ll tell the others. All that grease works wonders for a hangover.”

“Huh. Not your first one?”

“Nope,” he said as he texted. “But it was my first blackout.”

*

Allison and Danny looked like death at Betty’s dinner. Lydia preserved a certain dignity. Jackson and Scott were naturally fine, and Stiles only looked more pale than usual.

“Hello, boys and girls!” Erica said merrily, making them wince collectively. “What will you have on this fine day, bunch of drunkards?”

Stiles grinned at her. “Whatever’s most greasy in the menu and curly fries. And tons of water, Erica.”

“Right up! Hope you had fun,” she left her red lipstick on his cheek.

Scott sat next to Allison, followed by Stiles in the booth. Lydia, Jackson, and Danny in front of them. Both Allison and Danny hid their heads on the table underneath their arms.

“Hey,” Scott whispered to her, “would you like me to help with your nausea and headache?”

Allison squinted at him from between her arms. “What? How?”

Scott set his hand on her elbow softly. “I can take away your pain.” His veins turned black for a moment to prove his point. She gasped.

“Please keep going,” she sighed. Scott grinned and continued.

“Hey, you didn’t offer me that,” Stiles pouted but couldn’t look away from his veins.

“You were fine after some water,” Scott shrugged.

“True,” he turned to the door. In came Kira and Malia followed by Cora and Isaac, happily free of hungover. Because werewolves. Happily, too, to be holding hands. Stiles’ eyebrows rose high. “Well, something good turned out from so much alcohol!”

Isaac grinned while Cora punched him in the arm with the slightest of blushes on her cheeks. “Ouh, ouh, Cor! What the heck?”

She huffed and pulled a chair over. Isaac sat next to her and patted Stiles’ arm. “That’s her way of saying thank you.”

Stiles grumbled nonsense and pulled out his cellphone. He texted his dad. _Back from the dead at Betty’s. See you after your shift!_ He waited for the regular answer. _Ok, kiddo. Hope you had fun_. Stiles smiled. _Yeah, I think I did._

Just then Erica arrived with their holy remedy. The poor humans and the banshee ate as if there were no tomorrow. Isaac laughed at them.

Cora snorted. “Some would say you run with wolves.”

Everyone startled a laugh at her joke. And the anecdotes of last night begun. How Malia had made Kira dance on the sofas and the table. The kisses between Lydia and Allison. Danny scoring twice, with twins. Isaac’s confession. Allison’s confession. And Stiles’ disappearance for a mere kissing session.

“After settling my side of drunks in my car,” said Jackson with a small glance thrown to Cora, “I helped Scott put you in his motorbike in a way you wouldn’t fall over.”

“Oh, goddesses,” Stiles covered his face. “Tell me there are no pictures of that.”

“Unfortunately, no,” Cora frowned and looked away. “We all had our hands full.”

Stiles sighed. “Fu! Thank the goddesses I didn’t do anything weird. In New York, I once tried to swim to the Statue of Liberty.”

“Oh, man, that would have been fantastic to watch,” said Danny.

“Except the part where I stepped on a fish and had to be taken to the hospital,” Stiles winced.

“Still, fantastic,” he sighed and sat back. Hangover fleeing from his body. “Plans for today?”

Allison huffed. “You want to do something after last night? You’re crazy!”

“I agree,” said Kira. “You guys went overboard and wild.”

“What about date night for all and bit it?” Malia said and slurped her smoothie.

Danny shrugged. “Fine. I do have the twin’s number. What do you say, Stiles? Want one of them?”

“Nah,” Stiles shrugged at the pang in his heart. “I see a chill day and girls in my near future.”

*

After he was dropped in his house, Stiles let out a mournful sigh. They were all going to have a romantic night and all he had was his dream. Albeit, it had been an amazing one.

He pulled his hair hard and decided to take a shower. He would _not_ dwell on that. He was moving on from this love. Stiles put on some music and sang and danced while he bathed. Not letting the noise in his head make sense.

Then, he settled on his couch to kill time on his Xbox. A movie night with his dad sounded like a good way to spend a Saturday. He could learn his preferences in movies and show him a wonder of others.

Stiles focused on the best gear and weapons he’d need for each match he played. Even when he paused for food, his brain kept making numbers and calculations to play his best. He only realized it was night when the door jingled with his dad’s keys.

“Hey, Pops!” he closed the game and jumped off the couch to receive him. “Catch any bad guys today?”

Noah groaned and cracked his back. “I wish. It was a torturous day of paperwork, over paperwork, on top of paperwork,” he grumbled.

“Downfall of being sheriff?”

His dad nodded. “Are you going out tonight too?”

“Nope!” Stiles smiled. “I plan on having a _Lord of the Rings_ marathon with you. If you’re not too tired and don’t have a morning shift tomorrow.” Stiles bit his lip anxious.

His dad scoffed and stretched with a yawn. Then patted Stiles’ shoulders on his way to the kitchen. “Not at all. Put them on, son. I’ll grab us something to eat.”

“You’ve seen them before?” Stiles asked out loud as he looked for a stream on his Xbox.

“I haven’t. Allison mentioned them to me once but I had a case and forgot about it.” His dad came back to the couch with a pair of trademark Melissa’s sandwiches.

Stiles gasped and put a hand on his heart. “How could you? They’re amazing! You’ll love them. I’d tell you to read the books but it’s kind of a heavy style.”

Noah chuckled. “I’d probably fall asleep, wouldn’t I?”

“Most likely, yeah,” he smiled. Stiles hit play.

In the middle of the first movie, Stiles finally found the courage to voice an idea that had been roaming in his head. “Dad?”

“Son?” Noah smiled in reply, easily captivated by the movies’ plot.

“Do you think I can speak with Talia tomorrow?”

Noah grabbed Stiles’ jittery fingers and squeezed. “Of course. I can text her right now and set up a time and place. Do you want me to be there?”

“Yes? But I think I have to do this on my own, to really form an opinion.”

“Very well, then,” Noah gripped his hand one more time and released to text Talia. A response came within a minute. “She says you can go to the house after our pancakes.”

“Yeah, that sounds ok,” Stiles smiled at him. “Thanks, for understanding.”

“We all process in different ways,” Noah clapped him on the shoulder and settled to enjoy the rest of the movies.

*

In the end, they couldn’t see all three. Both men finished by sheer will the second one. After all, Noah had to work the next day and Stiles hadn’t slept much on Friday.

All through the pancakes, they commented about the movies. Stiles kept prodding his father to try and figure out the ending. He was always wrong, but at least it kept him focused on their moment instead of his mind going in a thousand different directions about his meeting with Talia.

But time marches on.

Noah had to go to work and Stiles needed answers. They hugged outside of the restaurant and went in different directions. Stiles’ leg jumped up and down all the drive and his fingers wouldn’t stop drumming the wheel, without any music on.

Without realizing it, he was already outside the Hale house. He killed the engine and just sat there. After a few minutes, Talia opened her door and waved at him. Stiles held his breath a second and then got out of the car.

“Hello, Stiles,” she said once he was on the porch. “Would you like something to drink?” She went inside to the kitchen, he followed. “Coffee? Tea? Juice? Water?”

“Um…” he sat at the table, “juice’s fine. I’ve already had coffee and there’s only so much I can drink of that stuff without going steer crazy.”

She handed him a glass of cranberry juice and served herself tea. She sat across from him. In fact, she hadn’t patted his back like she had when he stayed there. She was giving him space on purpose. He didn’t like it. It felt odd, like he was an outsider.

“So… is there like a pitch here or…?”

She took a small sip. “I could retell you all of our werewolf history, the stories we tell each other while growing up, but that’s not what you want to listen to right now, do you?”

Stiles shook his head. “No. I… I don’t know? That sounds interesting.” He scratched his neck. “I had a million questions and now they’re gone from my head. Um…” he forced himself to focus. “Scott mentioned alphas, betas, and omegas. What’s that?”

“Traditionally, every pack is formed by one alpha while the rest are betas.” She flashed her red eyes at him. He gulped down. “I’m the alpha of the Hale pack that lives in Beacon Hills. This is our territory. My betas are my children, my brother, Isaac, Erica, Vernon, Jordan, Melissa, Scott, your father, Lydia, Jackson, and Daniel.”

“Wait, my dad? He’s human and a hunter. And no omegas in packs?”

“A pack isn’t purely made by werewolves, though there are some who’d disagree. One can come from a family of werewolves and be born human. You must understand: a pack is family and something deeper than blood at the same time. That’s why humans can also be pack. And your father renounced hunting, but I suppose he should tell you why and how.

“Now, omegas are werewolves that are alone, those who don’t have a pack or have lost it. An alpha or a beta can become at any given moment an omega. It’s a dangerous thing to be, you can become deranged, lose sight of yourself and then there’s nothing left to do for you but put you out of your misery. Us, much like regular wolves, are meant to live in packs; we’re not lone creatures.”

“That’s why you’re all so touchy-touchy, with the hugs and pats on the head and all that?”

Talia nodded. “Yes. We’re tactile, probably more than other packs. We constantly scent each other. It’s reassuring.”

Stiles frowned down at his untouched juice. The space between them seemed to have a voice of its own and scream at him. “And that’s why you’re sitting over there and not next to me. I’m not pack, am I?”

She straightened in her seat and cleared her voice. “At the moment, no. How you enter a pack is different between werewolf and human. A werewolf just needs to flash his eyes at the alpha and expose his neck in submission. Once the alpha places a hand on the neck, accepting the submission, the bond is made and can never be broken. Once pack, always pack until they die.

“Humans, however, must make a conscious choice to be part of the pack and, at any given moment, can also choose to leave it.” She paused, letting that sink in, and stirred her tea. “Your mother never left my pack.” Stiles’ head snapped up. Talia placed a hand on her chest. “I felt it as she died. Her bond with us slowly faded until it vanished.”

“She was sick, her brain was melting and eating at her.” He sniffed and changed the topic. “I was technically born into your pack. Why am I not part of it already?”

“I wasn’t present at your birth to recognize you as such. And you hadn’t interacted with us until recently.”

“Were you going to ask me to be part of it?”

Talia smiled gently. “Yes. After we had had the chance to tell you about werewolves, I was going to offer. I still would gladly welcome you into my pack but, remember, it is your choice.” She extended her hand at him. He toyed with her fingers.

“As a human?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So, you don’t want to turn me?”

She frowned with a slightly annoying idea from who these questions were coming. “No, you’re perfectly welcome as a human. The bite _is_ a gift but I wouldn’t force it on anyone.”

“And… and if I wanted to be turned?”

Her eyes narrowed. “First, you’d need to be eighteen and aware that there’s a 50% chance you could die in the process. And this must be a well-thought decision.

“The only other way I’d bite you without your explicit consent would be if you were on the brink of death and nothing else can save you _and_ you’ve previously instructed me to bite you as a last measure. And there’s still half a chance it won’t work. Not everyone is meant to be a werewolf.”

Stiles nodded and gripped her hand more firmly. “Could the bite have saved my mom?”

“Oh, Stiles.” Without leaving his hand, she surrounded the table and came to sit next to him. “I don’t know. I’ve haunted myself with the what-ifs, dear. There’s no way of knowing until the process is underway. But I’ve always thought she’d have been a wonderful wolf.”

Silence came between them but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a lot of information to take in, but Stiles still had questions and craved even more answers. He’d use the night to digest all of this. “Did she explain to you why she was leaving while pregnant without telling my dad?”

“She did.” Stiles’ heart beat faster. He was finally going to know why he’d grown without a father. “But that’s a conversation for another day. Let’s continue with your werewolf questions. I know there are more.”

He sighed and searched his brain. She had a point. “Do you, as alpha, also turn into a beast that walks on two legs?”

She stared at their joined hands. “No, love. When alphas take a shape like that is an indicator that something is terribly wrong with them. I shift the same as Scott and, well, I can also turn into a wolf.”

“Wait, what? Like an actual wolf? Four legs, tail and all?” He asked surprised.

“Yes. It’s rare among werewolves but in the history of Hales there’s always been one or two who could.” She smiled with pride.

“Can I see?!”

She chuckled. “I don’t mind showing you, but you should know I need to undress for that.”

“Uhhh….” he blushed. “Is that necessary?”

“Well, it’s difficult to step out of human clothes in wolf shape without ripping them to pieces. I can shift fully clothed but I’d still return to my human shape naked.” She raised an eyebrow at him, smelling his embarrassment. “Do you still want me to show you?” He shook his head and she continued. “You’ve already seen one, though.”

“What? When? I didn’t know about werewolves before this week.”

“It wasn’t a dog what accompanied you the night you discovered the girl’s body.”

It dawned on him then. His brain told him it was a dog because it was trying to cope with the information it had, yet in his gut, he knew it was something else. A wolf. It didn’t have Talia’s red eyes.

“But it wasn’t you. You don’t have blue eyes. Who else can turn into a wolf?”

She looked him in the eye and said, “Derek.”

He inhaled sharply and scrubbed his face with his free hand. What? What did that mean then? Derek went to him in wolf shape after he’d decided not to call him or see him again. Why had he…? He shook his head. No, no. This was not the moment to focus on this. Talia couldn’t answer these doubts. Derek himself needed to do that. Stiles was probably going to be forever left in doubt by the way the man had been behaving.

“Ok, um, uh…” he breathed deeply to calm himself and change his brain’s train of thought. “I can assume it’s not easy to kill you, as hunters trained for years exist and Scott mentioned super healing powers. Um, so, what hurts you?”

Talia sighed. “Wolfsbane in all its variations and anything mixed with it, as you already know, is poison to us. Mistletoe disorients us. Unescapable fire and decapitation are other ways to kill us, “she listed. “There’s also mountain ash. It doesn’t hurt us but it does trap us and any supernatural creature. Your dad and the Argents can tell you all about this if you become a hunter.”

She tried to let go of his hand but he didn’t let her. “I won’t be a hunter. I only want to know what to avoid so I don’t hurt you guys accidentally.” He bit his lip nervously. “I... I want to be pack.”

Talia’s eyes filled with tears as she felt his bond snap into place within her next to where Claudia’s used to be. She pulled him in to hug him and scented his hair. He held her, feeling an itch in his chest. He assumed it was his anxiety being released and settled, and didn’t give much thought to it.

She caressed his back to sink her scent into his clothes. “You’re hugging me. Does this mean I’m in now?”

She smiled into his hairline. “Yes, you’re pack now. I can feel your bond.”

“Uhh... I don’t feel much different?”

She stopped hugging him, yet seemed closer already. “It’s normal for humans not to feel it.” Both their cellphones pinged and ranged and vibrated then. “But werewolves do. It can let us know if someone is in danger or dying. Hence,” she said nothing else and pointed at the phones.

“Should we answer?” he asked concerned with the notifications accumulating.

Talia hummed and pushed his juice to him. He took the hint and finally drank some. “We should, but they’re all coming for dinner. I’ll officially tell them the news then.”

“Should I stay?”

“Well, it _is_ a pack dinner,” she smirked at him and sipped her tea.

“So, I’m going, or well, staying for dinner,” Stiles beamed. “You get the drill.”

Talia smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

He scoffed. “Just about everything. Men, like, what else is real? What other creatures exist? Dragons? Vampires? Fairies?”

“Dragons presumably existed once, like unicorns, vampires, fairies, witches, ghouls, wendigos, druids, sparks… All the stories and legends are real, Stiles.”

“ _The_ spark? The one from where the Goddesses were born. Wait, the Goddesses too?”

“Your mom believed they were, though no one has ever seen them. But sometimes your believe…”

“…is all you need to make it real.” Stiles finished for her. “Mom said that all time.”

They quieted down again and dug through their memories of her. It seemed that there was one more person he could share his mom with and cherish her. And she was now his Alpha.

“Do you want to see the library?”

“I’ve already seen it,” he frowned confused.

Talia chuckled and stood proudly. “I don’t mean that library.”

“There’s a second one?” Stiles gulped down his juice and followed her.

“Of course there is. Regular humans unaware of the supernatural may come at any given moment and we must protect our secrets. We don’t want to spook people or make them think we’re crazy.”

“It wouldn’t have made me run away. Quite the opposite. I’d have built myself a cocoon there and read all night.”

Talia led them to the basement. She stopped before the door and turned to grasp his cheek softly. “That’s because you’re very special. You loved us before truly knowing who or what we were. And when we were revealed to you, your heart only held us stronger and pushed through the doubt.”

Stiles’ soul trembled. She spoke the truth. He never once stopped loving them. He had questions and wanted answers; a natural reaction to the unknown. But he hadn’t had fear; another natural reaction.

“I still won’t let you spend days down here,” she raised an eyebrow and opened the door with a flick of her claws.

Stiles had an answer ready for her, a way to convince her to at least borrow some books home, but all thoughts fled him as he felt the library come to life. If magic had a smell, it was probably the one this secret supernatural library had.

He was speechless. This was amazing. He held himself back from touching the spines of the countless books. Plenty were old, ancient; some were scorched here and there or almost entirely; few seemed new. They were written in every language that ever existed to mankind: Latin, French, Sanskrit, Italian, Russian, Old English, Dutch, Spanish, Japanese, even Polish. Stiles stopped in front of that one. _Iskra Bogiń_. A spark of Goddesses.

“It was your mom’s,” Talia whispered next to him. Stiles blinked the sudden tears at his eyes. His hands itched to grab it but he didn’t dare. “She wrote it.” He focused on her rather than the book. “It gathers the mythology of the Goddesses, who they are, how they came to be and what is their relation to the world.”

“Natura, Los, Łobuzerka,” he murmured in polish.

“Nature, Fate and Mischief,” she translated. “I learned Polish for her. She wrote this book for me to understand her worldview and she’d only write it in Polish, in the way she learned the stories contained here.”

“She told them to me in Polish too. She never spoke Polish unless she was telling these stories or calling my name.” Stiles sniffed. “It’s unbelievable how still I sat just to listen to her speak.”

He bit his wobbling lip. The tears were stronger. “Oh, Stiles,” Talia held him in her arms. “It’s okay, dear. I miss her too, every day.”


	13. Chapter 13

# 13

Talia left Stiles alone to wander the supernatural library. He took down a couple of books, reading a little, and returning them. He couldn’t focus on one thing. His eyes kept going back to the spot where the book his mom wrote was. Talia had given him permission to take that one home. He just wasn’t sure if he was capable of it.

It’d been so long since he heard or read any Polish. Would he remember anything? Would his mom’s voice come back? Would he cry himself to sleep if it happened? Or had it been so long that he’d forgotten the exquisite way her words floated around him while she told story after story?

“Dinner time,” said Cora from the door. He followed her out with one last glance at the book. Step by step, he threw it to the back of his mind, letting it slip into his heart. He knew he’d leave tonight with it in his hands. He needed it.

The living room was filled with people. Most, he knew. There were new faces too. The Hale pack was bigger than what he’d seen so far. Yet at a glance, he knew Derek wasn’t there.

Talia rubbed his back in passing and whispered, “He’s got some work to do, but he’ll be here by dinner. He promised.”

Stiles didn’t blush. He didn’t, swear to all deities. He cleared his throat and went to Scott’s side. He was received with open arms, but there was still something off about him.

“Don’t worry about Ally,” Stiles messed up his hair. “I give her less than a week to come to talk to Talia and figure out a drastic way to change her family’s tradition.” Scott huffed a smile and bumped their shoulders.

“Can you vouch for that, offspring of hunters?” A strange creepy voice called behind them.

Stiles looked back. The guy was buffed with the bluest eyes he’d seen on a human, besides Jackson and Isaac. There were the beginnings of a beard crawling on his cheeks. A stark contrast with the perfectly styled hair.

“I didn’t know that was a thing,” he answered. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this guy. He gave him some creeps, but he also felt like he could be trusted at some level. “But yeah, Ally will come through. She’s a badass.”

“Dad, stop bothering him,” Malia plopped down next to Stiles.

“Dad?!” Stiles gaped. They didn’t look the tiniest bit alike. Not skin tone, nor eyes, nor hair, not even supernatural creature.

“Why must you ruin my entertainment? Just like your mother, in every way,” Peter rolled his eyes. He extended a hand. “Peter Hale.”

Stiles took it. “Stiles.” His arm was pulled in and Peter sniffed around his wrist. Lydia slapped his nose away right as Stiles started feeling weird and an urge to shove him off.

“Don’t mess with him or I’ll send you to the afterlife before you can wolf out.”

“I wouldn’t want that, darling.” He cocked his head. “Saved by my sister.”

“Sorry about my uncle,” Cora patted him in the arm. “You’ll get used to it, like the rest of us. His head hasn’t been entirely there for quite some years.”

His answer was stolen away by a pair of arms hugging him from the back and a loud yell in his ear. “STILES!” It was Laura. “I knew you’d be pack from the second I saw you! I’m _so_ glad! Now I can hug you all I want!”

“You weren’t doing that before?” he mumbled. She was rubbing her cheek on the top of his head. Stiles thought she was one step away from purring like a cat. He smiled. His mom used to give hugs like these. It seemed that he could find her again not only with his dad but also here, with these people, this pack. His pack.

*

Despite the number of people, dinner went without a hitch. It was loud. Plates clattering, laughs all around from jokes whispered, the passing of food. A fun experience, truth be told.

Dessert had come and gone. No sign of Derek. The one person Stiles was both craving and anxious to see. He took advantage of the post sugary enjoyment and slipped to the backyard. Would their relationship change?

But he wasn’t alone.

“Who would have thought my nephew would repeat his mistakes?” Peter stared at him, seemingly looking at his insides. “He left his scent deep in you. Deeper than her.”

He frowned. Nephew? Did he mean Derek? “What are you talking about?” Had there been someone else? Of course it had, he reprimanded himself. Derek wouldn’t be as fantastic in bed had it not been from previous encounters.

“You’re not his first hunter.”

Stiles crossed his arms. It was an obvious taunt. Peter seemed to be the type to like riddles and puzzles. Although he was aware of this, he was interested. He couldn’t help it. They were talking about Derek. There was no other male in the family, as he’d observed so far. He could feel the curiosity swimming beneath his skin. What other hunters had gone through Derek’s life? There had to be a lot. Why had it been a mistake?

“I’m not a hunter.”

“So, you say.” Peter walked to the door. Before passing him, he stepped in close and mumbled low enough for him. “Would you lay your heart on the line for him or would your training kick in?”

His words set afire a train of thought. What would his reaction be? Was Derek wondering the same? Was that why he hadn’t shown? Who was the previous hunter? Could he get answers from Derek or was this all futile and in vain? Sighing, he went back inside and stumbled into Talia hanging up her cellphone and a frown on her face.

“Everything ok?” he asked her. She looked up. Her smile didn’t reassure him. There was worry in her eyes.

“Nothing a quick trip won’t fix. Peter, Boyd, go to Derek’s loft,” she called and ordered, confident they’d hear her and comply.

*

Dinner had ended and Derek didn’t show. After a call from Peter, Talia sent home the young and humans and held back those with a super-sensitive nose. They were going to look for him.

His dad offered the police department’s help, but she refused. She preferred to keep it a pack matter and not involve the law. Though if needed, she would take him up on it.

Stiles drove home listlessly. Had Derek skipped the dinner because of him? Impossible. This was his family, his pack. Even if he despised the sight of him, he’d never abandon them. Stiles knew him that much: he kept his old room and went to his mother’s side whenever she asked.

Instead of immediately going up to his bed, as his dad had done, Stiles went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. No sleep would be coming tonight. Not with his brain so stirred by Peter’s vague conversation and Derek gone.

Once more, he recalled every moment spent with the wolf. What in his behavior could hint to where he was right now? Had it really been Stiles’ upbringing what triggered Derek to cut all ties with him? Because of that previous hunter? A female hunter, Stiles deduced from Peter’s words, frowning at the moon. The only female hunter he knew was Kate. Had they been involved? If so, why? It was obvious she detested werewolves.

Stiles went at it around and around in his head. Sunrise caught him sitting at the edge of his window, a new mug of coffee between his dancing fingers. He was missing something. Something crucial. But it was time for school.

He got ready, aware of the jingles and trembles in his body. Too much caffeine. His pill wouldn’t be useful but he still swallowed it. Dad was still asleep, so Stiles left the house in the least amount of noise possible. No success. He bumped into everything, dropped his keys and phone a couple of times, and burnt himself with more coffee and toast. He knew no limits sometimes. The sheriff went back to sleep as silence crept back into the house with a smile.

Thankfully, he was used to driving. He couldn’t remember the road at all. Everything was a blur except for the music and the radio. He toyed with it the whole time.

He was too hyped. He practically jumped instead of walking. There was too much energy trapped within his body. However, at the sight of Cora and Scott, everything within him stopped. He was bright clear on why he was so jittery. Derek.

“Hey, guys,” he failed to module his voice by the double wince they did. “Too much coffee, my bad. Um, did you find him? Or anything new? Leads? Scents? That’s what you guys would follow right? Trails of scent until the end of the world?”

Cora slapped a hand over his mouth. Not a morning person, Stiles remembered.

“All we know is what Boyd and Peter told us.” Scott yawned. “Gunpowder residue and wolfsbane at his loft. The trail dies off in the parking lot. We searched all night. Nothing.”

The bell rang. Stiles lead them to English. All the supernaturals involved in the search sat at the back. He was going to sit with them, then he was illuminated once again by an idea attached to a blonde and sat next to Allison.

“Hey,” he dragged his chair towards her. “How’s everything at home? Anything new? New stuff on the code or shit to learn?”

She sighed. “My parents have been arguing with my grandfather. Aunt Kate was giving me some background and history, but she traveled this weekend to Chicago, I think.”

He hummed. “Chicago, huh? Did you see any plane or train tickets?”

“They always move around in cars,” she frowned and considered him and his unstoppable leg jumping up and down. “Why? Something happened?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Um, I chose to be pack, you know? Yesterday.”

“That’s great!” She bit her lip. “Do you think…? No, forget it.”

“What? Come on, tell me.”

She glanced to the back, then pointed at her notebook. She wrote her question. _Could I do both? Pack and hunter?_

_It’d be tough, but sure why not_ , he answered. _Why?_

_To protect. Not hunt._

Stiles grinned. She was on their side. The teacher started class then. He winked at her step-cousin and pretended to pay attention. His brain muddled over the information she gave. Kate in Chicago. Could it be true? Could this be unrelated to Derek? She had insisted on the Hale’s supposed rampage vendetta. Would she just drop Allison’s lectures and go elsewhere? To another hunting job maybe?

He scowled at the blackboard. No. She wouldn’t. He had the inkling she was still in Beacon Hills. Worse. The horrible feeling that she was behind Derek’s disappearance.

By the end of class, he held Allison back. “Hey, could you call Kate? I wanna know if the rumors of Chicago’s pizza are true.”

She frowned at him but did it nonetheless. It rang several times, then her merry voice answered.

“ _Hi, darling. I’m afraid my trip’s been delayed a bit._ ”

“It’s fine, aunt. Stiles asks how’s the pizza?”

“ _It’s the same old pizza, love. What could possibly be different?_ ”

Got you, Stiles thought. He motioned her to cut the call. She quickly said her goodbyes.

“What was that about? And don’t leave anything out,” she poked his chest.

“She lied. Chicago’s pizza is famous, thick, greasy, and the most delicious thing in the world. There’s no pizza like it. Seriously, it’s like made from-”

“Stiles, your point?” she pulled his arm to refocus him.

“Right, sorry. Sidetracked. It’s just food. Okay. I think she’s here. I think she’s the reason why Derek is missing. And I think I know where she’s keeping him. No, I’m sure I know.” He backed away from her. “Gather the wolves. Go to Talia and tell her yourself how to get there. We can’t waste any more time.”

*

Stiles ran to his jeep leaving Allison a little confused. Yet he knew she’d do the right thing once she talked to any member of the pack. His Jeep, bless its beautiful existence, rumbled to live at the first try.

The tires left a mark on the pavement as he exited the school’s grounds. If his hunch was right, Kate had Derek in the same room at the end of the tunnels. Where she took them to reveal the reality of werewolves. Where she tortured one, where she made him kill one.

He hoped and prayed to be mistaken. Because if he was right, Derek was suffering right now. And that wouldn’t fly. He sped up in anger.

He recognized the beginning of the trail in the woods and killed the engine a little far away. He didn’t want to alert her. He walked as fast and quiet as Rapha ever taught him.

Stiles smirked at himself. Peter’s words were becoming true. The training was showing its face. But what Peter didn’t know was that he’d use it to their advantage.

He made a quick plan inside his head. Kate didn’t know he’d become pack. That was his edge. He didn’t how long it would take Allison to reach the alpha and inform them all. He faced the entrance of the tunnels and steeled his resolve. He’d pretend to be on her side.

Moss and humidity tickled at his nose. He could see new tracks on the floor. She had dragged something bigger than her. He glared up at the light on the other side. He was right. He pictured Derek as the other werewolf had been and his heart shook.

He hurried in with as much stealth as possible. The door was ajar. He peeked inside. Kate was staring at something with a manic glee in her eye. She turned up the power on a machine. A grunt echoed in the tunnels. Stiles dug his nails into his palms. _He was right, fuck_.

He breathed deeply. He could do this.

Stiles pushed the door open. Her hair whipped back at him, poised to strike—there was no gun in her hand, it was on the table, he noticed—, and relaxed when she saw him resting against the doorframe.

“My, I’m found already? I thought it’d take you longer. Is Allison with you?”

“No,” he forced himself to enter. He casually glanced at the figure hanging on the grill with running electricity. He’d know those abs and biceps and strands of hair anywhere. Derek. “She hasn’t tied two and two together. I chose to let her figure it out on her own.”

“That would be good practice,” she chuckled and observed him.

Stiles cocked his head full of pretense and crossed his arms facing the wolf. His chest had black bullet wounds from a shotgun, as well as one of his arms and legs. The black ramifications emerged from them, darkening his tanned skin.

“That’s spreading fast. Is it a different type of wolfsbane?” He made himself focus on data. If not, he’d draw blood.

“Yes, good eye. There are several types of wolfsbane, which makes it harder for them to heal when we pumped them full with different kinds.” She eyed him some more. “Aren’t you going to ask who it is?”

“I’m pretty sure I know. The wolves at school were quite tired like they didn’t get any sleep all night. Searching one of theirs I suppose.”

Kate pushed Derek’s head back with a crowbar. His eyes were half-open and unfocused. “I wanted to give Allison her shot, but, truly, I picked him for you.” She passed a hand over his abs. The metaphorical hackles on Stiles’ back rose in anger. He wanted to pull her off of him, but he couldn’t. He had to wait for the right moment. “You’ve tasted him too. Can you answer me this? How can something so attractive hide such a hideous monster?”

He bit the inside of his cheek and tasted blood. _Tasted him too?_ His hunch had been fucking spot on again. She was the hunter in Derek’s past. And she had at least ten years on him. His age freak-out made sense now. _Derek_ had been underage when Kate happened.

“In my defense, I didn’t know at the time,” he stalled. Adrenaline coursed through him like a living thing. He couldn’t wait for back-up. He wanted her away from him. Right. Fucking. Now. He picked up a crowbar, tested its shape and balance. He grabbed the gun too and checked the magazine. It clicked loudly in the small room. Derek’s eyes focused for a second. “If I had to answer, I’d say it’s the rose theory. Every rose has its thorn, yadda yadda, blah blah. Pretty things hurt. Or take frogs. The ones showing the most vibrant colors on their skin are the most poisonous. Take your pick.”

“I like where this is going,” she licked her lips and went to the car battery.

His eyes met Derek’s. Stiles removed the safety and shot Kate in the shoulder. The closeness made her spin. Not giving her any time whatsoever to recover, he dropped the gun, regripped the crowbar, and bashed her head in. She fell like a rag doll. He glanced down at the blood pooling around her head. He might have killed her.

Two dead on his list now. One wolf, one huntress. They balanced each other out.

He turned off the electricity. Derek’s body sagged relieved. Stiles couldn’t find his voice. There were a billion and a half things he wanted to ask, a billion and a half things going through his head. Was he considered a murderer now? Where his mouth didn’t work, his hands did. He unchained him, holding on to his weight by the waist once it was obvious Derek wasn’t in any headspace to do it on his own.

After draping his arm over his shoulders, Stiles hauled it out of there. He didn’t look back. He felt Derek stir a bit and nose his head.

“Stiles,” his voice cracked. Had he been there all night? Tortured and hanging? Roaring for help without being heard? The tunnel’s exit was close. “Footsteps,” he mumbled.

Stiles’ heartbeat spiked. Was Kate not dead? Was she chasing after them? He picked up their pace. Once out, he realized he hadn’t paid attention to the way back the first time he’d been there. He’d been out of his mind, reeling with newfound knowledge and shooting a fairytale werewolf.

He made the split decision to go right. It was always safe to pick right. Right? After some minutes walking, Derek’s body was heavier. And he realized he was lost. There were woods all around. No path or trail to lead back to his jeep.

“Fuck,” he cursed out loud. Twigs broke nearby. Unknowing if it was friend or foe or woodland creature, in a strike of fear, he made them dash forward.

They reached a clearing. He recognized this. It was the clearing the raccoon and squirrel had blocked. There was a stump in the middle. And, he squinted his eyes, there was a hidden door there, beneath it.

He looked at Derek’s pale skin. He needed to recover before being able to guide them back. Stiles sure as hell didn’t know the way. Apparently, his feet only knew how to get to this place.

As they passed through the door, Derek’s weight took the best of Stiles. They ended on the dirt face down. Stiles stood and closed the entrance, peeking for a moment to see if anyone was there. No living creature in sight.

He sighed. Relief floated in him and disappeared the moment he looked back at Derek. He dashed to his side and turned him over. Derek was panting, shivering, clammy, cold to the touch. The black veins covered more of his torso.

Stiles became painfully aware of one thing. He knew what wolfsbane did, but he hadn’t asked how to get rid of it. Derek was in no state to tell him any wolf secrets now. He had to try anyway.

“Derek. Derek,” he gave him tiny slaps on the cheek to rouse him. “Derek, wake up. Please. I need you to wake up. Tell me what to do. Or howl. You’re a wolf. Howl for your pack.”

A flutter of eyelids. Stiles bit his lip and continued.

“Come on. Wake up, Sourwolf. We beat the bitch and now we can go home. Go back to the pack. Because we’re pack, you know? Since yesterday. In case the memo didn’t reach you in your loft cave. And you missed my fabulous first dinner as a member. Although it’d probably had been the same to you.”

No answer. His breaths were becoming slower. Stiles’ panic reached a new level. He punched his shoulder.

“Don’t you fucking dare stop breathing,” he hissed. He could feel the tears edging his eyes, blurring his vision. “You cannot die. I have so many questions only you can answer. _You cannot die_ , you hear me?” He shook him. His eyes were slits. Through that, he saw them shine blue, like the wolf in the woods. His wolf.

Stiles’ brain scoured everything he knew about primal medicine. Werewolves were supernatural creatures, whose weakness could be found in a flower. In nature. Could the antidote be nature-related as well?

How do you kill a flower? You burn it.

Stiles looked around for a moment. Twigs and leaves. Not enough time to start a fire with just that. Derek’s hand closed around his shirt for a second. He coughed up blackened blood. There was a sad smile on his lips. Stiles had seen that look before. On his mom.

“No. No. _No_ ,” he gripped his face tightly. “Don’t give up. Don’t you fucking dare. I am not losing you too.”

Peter’s words circled his brain again. _Would you lay your heart on the line for him or would your training kick in?_ The second one had already happened. It was time for his heart to act.

“I fucking refuse to lose you. I refuse to let you die. I refuse to lose someone I love again. I _refuse_ , you hear? Do _you_ hear me, _asshole_? I love you. Do _you_ hear _me_ , _universe_? Goddesses? I love you wolf of a man and I fucking want you by my side until my heart stops beating! You are not dying on me, Derek.”

Time suspended. A breath slipped through Derek’s lips. Stiles wished and prayed with everything in him that it wasn’t the last. And something answered.

The leaves around them were blasted away. Derek opened his wolf blue eyes abruptly. His back arched. His claws scratched at Stiles’ arms holding him, too shocked to move away. Fire coursed through the wolf’s veins. All strength left Derek’s body. He panted.

“D-Derek?” Stiles called out in a weak voice. When he received no answer, he moved him a bit. He grunted. “Oh, thank the Goddesses.” Stiles dropped his head on his chest, listening to his heart. It was beating. He was alive. “I- I thought you were dead.”

“Me too,” he croaked. Stiles lifted his head and glared. “What did you do?”

“I prayed, you asshole! What else? Your turn now. How were you even taken, moron? Isn’t a werewolf supposed to be aware of his surroundings at all times? What do those super senses do if not that?”

Derek sat up with a grunt. Stiles moved back, realizing he was straddling him. He blamed the blush on the anger and sheer panic he went through. G’s, he was tired. Bone tired.

“Are you okay now?” The wolf nodded. “Really okay? You’re not going to drop dead if I look away or something, are you?”

“I’m fine. I just need a moment.” He moved his neck around until something popped into place.

“Don’t take too long. I don’t know if,” he cleared his throat. He had to say it aloud. “if she’s dead or chasing after us. I also don’t know the way back. Or if Allison managed to warn your mom. Or-”

“Stiles,” he opened his eyes and said nothing. Stiles shifted uncomfortably. Had he heard any of the stuff that spilled out of his mouth? Derek didn’t need to inhale deeply to smell the rollercoaster going on inside Stiles. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Oh, fuck, yes, please.”

Derek opened the door a little bit and scoured the clearing. They were alone. He nodded and they crawled out; wolf first, human later. He spared a look at the stump. It gave an ominous gentle feeling.

Derek guided the way, making sure Stiles remained upright from time to time. The closer they got to the Hale house, the more Stiles tripped. All the energy he’d accumulated since last night was rapidly leaving, whereas Derek felt revived with every step he took.

Stiles was barely holding on to his consciousness when the house came into sight from behind the trees. The whole pack, plus Allison, was standing outside. Eyes focused on them in different states. No one moved afraid it was an illusion. Some were shocked, others surprised, but all of them were happy.

Stiles made a straight line for his father. In the safe embrace, he mumbled out, “I think I killed her,” before crashing and blacking out.


	14. Chapter 14

# 14

When Stiles woke up again, he was inside the room he’d used before in the Hale house. He almost fell back to sleep, but a thought had him sitting up in a haste. Where was Derek? Was he okay? Had they really made it?

In a rush to leave the bed to check for himself, his feet entangled themselves with the sheets and he fell facedown to the floor. Again. The door opened at the same time to reveal Laura.

“Well, look who decided to finally rejoin the living.”

Stiles rubbed his chin. “Huh? What are you talking about? Wait, is Derek-?”

“He’s fine. You, on the other hand, have been sleeping for two days.”

“Two days?! That’s a new personal record.” His stomach growled, louder than all the wolves together howling at the moon. Laura laughed.

“Come on,” she pulled him up and dragged him out. “They’re waiting for you.”

“With food? Who? ‘Cause I’m starving.”

She rolled her eyes and guided him to the kitchen. He expected to see the Hales and Isaac. What he got was Talia, Peter, his dad, and someone he didn’t know. He was bald and dark-skinned with a goatee.

Talia hugged him, leaving a kiss on his forehead, and let him sit next to his dad, who side hugged him. Peter pushed a plate filled with pancakes, bacon, and sausages towards him. He was already shoving the glorious food in when Talia spoke.

“Stiles, this is Alan Deaton. He’s a druid and our emissary.”

Stiles raised a fork at him as hello and continued eating. Then his brain caught up with the words. He asked. “Wait, what? What’s an emissary? What do you do as a druid?” Except it sounded more like: “W-mph, wamit? Emsmmishy? Dromphd?”

“Son, swallow first.” He was passed a glass of orange juice. He repeated his questions.

“I am the mediator for the pack when they need to deal with other creatures. I also look after the pack’s wellbeing.”

Stiles chugged down half the glass. “You’re the doctor? I thought Melissa was in charge of that.”

“She is, for humans.” Talia cleared her voice. The look in her eye was serious. The mood changed. Stiles paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. “On Sunday, I told you we’d speak more of your mom at a later date.”

“Is today the later date?” He put down the fork and stole a glance at his dad. His brown was furrowed, pensive. Did he know what was coming? Or was this new to him too?

“Yes.” She breathed deeply. “Claudia wasn’t entirely human.” Stiles blinked a couple of times. In the back of his head, an idea started nagging. He knew what her next words would be. “She was a spark.”

He inhaled sharply. “Spark as in the book? The Goddesses? The whole shebang?”

When she nodded, he felt himself stop. For a moment, he didn’t think, he didn’t breathe, he didn’t move an inch. His dad’s words came back. _She was magical all right, in a human, charming way_. His dad hadn’t known. _They would have been gone by now if it weren’t for you_. Then Talia’s words bounced around. _I knew she was pregnant when she left._ Then her voice came through his ears. She was talking again.

“It shouldn’t have been possible for you to save Derek unless…”

She didn’t need to finish. _Unless he was a spark too_. Stiles stumbled out of the chair. He couldn’t look at his dad. He stared at the druid, Deaton. He was here for him. To check on him. Because he, Stiles, wasn’t human. The druid nodded. His world was shifting once more. He’d taken in pretty well the existence of werewolves and other supernatural creatures. It was quite different to find out you weren’t human.

“I – out- just a – sec-” he babbled and high-tailed it out of there.

He ran blindly into the woods, without finesse or attempt to keep a rational pace. He stopped when his lungs felt on fire. He was at the lake. He paced back and forth.

Ok. He pinched himself. Ok. This was real. This was happening. He wasn’t human. What meant to be a spark? Access to the Goddesses? If they lived within the spark, then where they inside of him? Or was he just a door for them? Would he share their traits? The druid probably knew all of this. But he wanted his mother’s voice, not a stranger’s.

He dropped down to his knees. A tight grip on his hair. He closed his eyes hard until he saw stars and focused on his childhood memories, on the stories she told him every night.

_Everything we know comes from the three Goddesses. Lovely Mother Nature provides the realm we exist in. Unbiased Lady Fate has at the tip of her fingers every possible outcome for every living thing. Mischievous Lady Misfortune plants obstacles to help us grow._

_While most people go about without a clue, making decisions and following one of the paths Lady Fate foresees, falling or rising to Lady Misfortune challenges, some special people walk next to them. Sparks put everything into motion. Just like a catalyst for fire, Sparks can do the Goddesses’ work among mortals. Sparks can change fates and save lives._

_And a Spark lives right here._

She always finished poking his chest. Hinting all along with his true nature, hadn’t she? Classical mom. When he opened his eyes, there was a mountain lion on the other side of the lake. On its head was a raccoon. And on top of the raccoon, a squirrel. Three animals. Three Goddesses. One Spark. Him.

He choked a sob. They slipped away, satisfied with being recognized. He thought deeply. What had been different from his mom to other moms? She used to be so in tune with nature. Flowers grew at her touch; wind caressed his tears away whenever he tripped and scraped his knees. Was it because of Mother Nature’s love? Did she allow his mom to nurture her at will? His mom liked to help others. Was it because she sensed where Lady Misfortune would be? More importantly, she was wise, knowing more than was possible. Was it Lady Fate’s trait? To look into the future and see the possibilities open wide and make the right choice? Had she seen what their lives would be had they stayed in Beacon Hills with his dad? Did she know how much danger they’d be in so close to Gerard and Kate? It was Stiles’ fault her misfortune then. Had they been in Beacon Hills when she got sick, the druid or Talia would have been able to do something for her.

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. She’d chosen her death to keep him safe and away from Gerard and Kate, hadn’t she? Except now he was right in their reach. Should he leave and put himself out of harm’s way? He didn’t want that. It pained him to even consider it. He couldn’t live a life without all these beautiful people, without his pack. Gerard would be coming for him, sooner or later, wouldn’t he? Would that put them all in danger too?

Dark spots started to invade his line of sight. A shadow fell over him. He didn’t know he was cold until the hand on his cheek chased it away until another’s heart beat alive under his fingers until a forehead touched his.

“Breathe.”

A huff tickled his lips. This voice. These hands. Derek. Stiles sucked in air. One after another until his ragged puffs synched with the wolf’s calming breaths. He moved back and his eyes roamed over Stiles’ figure.

They locked unto each other. By the outfit, he’d been out on a run. He looked so alive and healthy. The worry at the back of his mind vanished. His Derek was back and good. Stiles’ hand fell to the grass, releasing the death grip on his sweaty shirt.

“Can you stand?”

Stiles nodded and wobbled his way up. He thanked the Goddesses to let him be their spark. Derek was alive because of it.

“Want to talk about it?”

Stiles swallowed. “Just a little existential crisis. Not every day you find out you’re not human. No biggie. It’s cool.” Derek’s eyebrows agreed it was an understatement, although they couldn’t relate. He’d been born a wolf. “The druid’s still there?”

Derek headed in the house’s direction. “Most likely.” Stiles followed. Well, with great power, came great training, didn’t it, Spidey?, Stiles thought to himself. Then he realized something.

“Wait, you’re talking to me again. Is it because I’m pack? What happened to no ties?”

Derek scowled at the woods’ ground floor. “You put your ass on the line for me. A reckless stupid thing when you have a pack,” he deadpanned and stared into his eyes. “But I’d be more of an idiot not to accept your friendship.”

“So, friends? And pack?” He grinned. Derek scratched the back of his head and nodded. Stiles bit his lower lip. He could live with that. Friend-Derek was way much better than No-Derek. “Then, expect a lot of random texts, mister. My friendship comes at a high price. Just ask Isaac and Cora.”

Derek chuckled. Stiles felt he could survive anything that came his way as long as he could hear his laugh.

*

Back in the house, training sessions were arranged with the druid. Apparently, there was a lot to be learned, like control and anchors, and see the extent of his skills. Each spark had a different set. For the moment, he was told to meditate and think back on how he triggered his powers.

Needless to say, a week and a half later, it was going nowhere. He’d done it out of desperation—and love. The exact circumstances would be hard to recreate. Stiles looked out the class’ windows. He supposed he could use his mom as an anchor. After all, it was because of her that he knew anything about love or was even a spark, to begin with. Another thing that worried him was that no body was found down the tunnels. The bitch was still alive somewhere.

“Stiles?” A small hand waved in front of him. Danielle was hugging her books by his side. “When do you want to start working on the project?”

Stiles had tuned out Harris’s blabbing. A look around told him lab partners had been assigned… for something. A science project, maybe?

“Uh… how about Monday? I have lacrosse today and a game on Friday and Saturday. We could do some research on our own during the weekend to brainstorm later.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she smiled sweetly. Her skirt flew as she turned; he could see the edge of her ass. She gave him a little wave from the door.

“She likes you,” Lydia eyed her with suspicion.

“Not true,” he frowned, gathering his stuff. “We were discussing the project.”

“Skirts don’t float that much unless you want them to.” Lydia tapped her perfect nails on his cheek and lead the way out.

Stiles head to the lockers. As he changed into training gear, he felt little rivers of ants walking under his skin. He recognized it. He shook his head, trying to spook the idea and feeling away. Instead, the showers turned on. All of them.

Did he do that? His eyes opened wide. He tried to turn them off in his head. But with no clue how it happened, he just ran and did it manually. Random stuff like that had been following him since he learned about his spark status. His magic ached to be left out to play in the world. No meditation helped tone it down. It was as if he hadn’t taken Adderall in a week. And he had.

Training in itself wasn’t smooth either. People kept tripping as if the grass grew around their feet. He squinted. The grass had actually grown a little. Balls levitated from sticks, wanting to leave his opponents.

“Is that you?” Scott asked awed. The news of his spark status had spread while he was asleep. Few understood what it entailed, like Lydia.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” He winced as Liam, the perfect lacrosse player, fell and dropped the ball.

“Reign it in, Stilinski,” grumbled Jackson in passing.

Stiles closed his eyes. Meditation. Come on. Breathe in and out. He pictured his mom’s smile and gentle eyes. Suddenly, Derek’s bunny teeth intruded his mind. Greenberg’s stick hit Coach in the back of the head.

“Although I have entertained a thought or two of that happening, I swear I didn’t mean it,” he gaped. Isaac and Malia burst into giggles. The laughs were contagious. Then Coach snapped and put an end to it by demanding suicides for the next hour.

“Are you going to be okay for games?” fake panted Scott next to his real panting. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, wishing he was falling all over too, and, then, Scott was on his back blinking up.

“Uh…” Stiles raised his eyebrows, at a loss of words. He felt an itch in his hands. He’d done that, hadn’t he? Just by the thought of it. “I might need to take a trip to the doc ahead of time.”

*

Deaton had him staring at a candle for almost ten minutes now. They were in the Hale’s basement. A magic and soundproofed room to safely practice. Nothing was happening. He’d set a spell that confined his energy somehow. It’d fade once he went home. If this session went south—as it was right now—, he’d ask for that spell to be cast before the games.

“This isn’t working. I’m not learning anything. I don’t feel any sparks or whatever I’m supposed to feel.”

“Focus.”

Stiles swallowed his groan and tried to get back into it. He squinted at the candle. In his mind’s eye, his mom was blowing a kiss. He wanted to turn that into a flame. Just a little one. Or a dash of something? No? G’s, anyone home?

“Think back to your awakening. Were you thinking of your mother, then?” Stiles looked away. The answer was no. “It won’t work unless you’re honest with yourself.”

Stiles’ heart broke a little. Derek was his anchor, wasn’t he? Because he loved him like life itself. But they were no more than friends. And that was recent. If he was already resigned to love him from the sidelines, how much harm would and could his heart endure for the sake of control? Achieving that seemed important. Not only to get a resemblance of normalcy back, but control would come in handy if another dangerous situation arose. With that mindset, he could shed the embarrassment (and embrace the incoming pang of melancholy) of Derek’s handsome everything—from soul to body—to be able to switch on and off his powers.

He thought back to the day in the lake. He’d felt so in control then. Just by being near him, laughing together. Derek’s hazel eyes framed by his raised eyebrows taunted him. The tip of his lips twisted up into a smirk. He was challenging him. _What’s it gonna be, Stiles?_ , he asked in his imagination.

The candle lighted up. A tear left his right eye. Deaton nodded satisfied.

“An anchor is personal. It’s your choice to reveal it or not. Well done. Now, turn it off. Slowly.”

Stiles groaned a complaint and the flame went haywire. The druid cut it off with a flick of his wrist.

“Again.”

*

Stiles exited the basement an hour later. He was starving. The moment he crossed the door into the living room, he felt something snap back into him. A void had been filled and was way perky. He closed his eyes and walked towards the kitchen as he did the breathing cycles to calm down.

He bumped into someone or a brick wall, maybe. He rubbed his nose. He opened his eyes and a handsome face engraved in his heart looking at him.

“Derek! F-fancy meeting you here. Don’t you have your loft and stuff?”

He raised an eyebrow at him, questioning his life choices. “I came over for dinner.” Stiles' stomach growled. “Seems like you too.”

He blushed and scratched his ear. “Not really. I was just training with Deaton downstairs.”

“How did it go?”

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. “Psh, fine. Just fine!” His voice was high-pitched, he cleared his throat. “I lighted a candle. A hundred times over. Until the flame came and died as slow or fast as I wanted. I don’t ever want to hear the word ‘again’ again.” Derek huffed a chuckle. “Want me to show you?” He wiggled his fingers.

He shrugged. “Sure. Light away.”

Stiles looked around the room and chose the TV table’s flower and candle arrangement. He closed his eyes and focused. This time around he could feel the sea of energy within him, bubbling happily, waiting to be spent. He could even sense Derek’s warmth exuding. He painted the arrangement in his head, pinpointed its real location. Then he exhaled slowly as if the breath leaving his body would become the fire he wanted.

When he opened his eyes, the candle in the middle was aflame. A tiny pretty flame. He smiled.

“I thought you said you practiced on one.” Derek was looking around. Stiles did the same. All candles in the room were ignited.

“I did,” he gaped. “I targeted that one.” He pointed at the table. “I didn’t even know there were so many candles in here.” At least he didn’t burn something. With a confident flair of his hand, he turned them off. He observed Derek’s profile. Was he able to control so many because he was present?

Peter applauded descending the stairs. “We’ve got ourselves a pretty strong spark.”

“Yeah,” Derek grinned and patted his head like a little kid. It dampened his mood. This was how it would be from now on. He had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, he was happy they were friends. On the other hand, it crushed his soul. It was bittersweet, to say the least. His stomach rumbled again.

“Let’s eat.”

*

Stiles decided to act as normal as he could around Derek. He couldn’t let his feelings get in the way of an awesome friendship. Therefore, every time he saw a black dog, he took a picture and send it to Derek saying “Is that you?”.

He always received something like “What? No. I’m home.” or “I’m working at the loft, dumbass”. This time he received a photo. Derek was glaring and scowling at the camera, the text said “Full human getting food”. Stiles giggled.

Danielle looked up at him from her side of the couch. They were working on the project at her house. Stiles had wanted to make biodiesel but she didn’t want anything messy. So, he let her pick the theme. She chose to make edible crystals. They were supposed to be researching their materials and making a shopping list with a budget.

“What is it?” she smiled. There was a pink tone to her cheeks. Her blouse had a low cut, giving him a nice view of her cleavage. Her shorts were the smallest he’d ever seen. Maybe Lydia had a point.

“Nothing. Just a meme, sorry. I’ll focus.”

Except he didn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking of the wolf’s grumpy face. Only he could turn grocery shopping into such a nuisance. A faint blush invaded his cheeks. Such a beautiful grumpy face. The expected wave of sadness coursed through his body then. Although he knew it was coming, it never stopped sucking.

Stiles was startled by Danielle’s hand on his leg. He hadn’t realized he was jingling it so much, nor tapping and clicking his pen every two seconds.

“You’re too distracted,” she pushed her boobs onto his side. “Boring stuff? Too much energy? Want me to help you out with it?”

“Uh…” His brain short-circuited a little. It went from eyebrows to boobs. Because boobs were making contact. Squishable, fluffy boobs. “Like going for a run?”

She giggled. “No, silly. Sex.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. The boobs jingled with the motion. Her hand moved higher on his thigh. His dick seemed interested.

“Just sex?” he questioned with narrowed eyes and an eyebrow raised. A small-town girl offering no strings, just pleasure? That sounded like a fantasy, not reality.

“Of course. It’s for the benefit of our project.”

He huffed and considered the offer. It would take some of his extra energy away. And she was cute. Her boobs certainly looked appealing enough for his dick to twitch a second time. Anyhow, eventually he’d move on from Derek, right? He couldn’t possibly hold his heart hostage forever? Or his body, for that matter. He’d failed on Jungle with a guy; now here was a girl. No time like the present to figure it out.

“As long as we’re both on the same train, then.”

Danielle smiled and straddled him. Her lips were glossy. Her skin smooth beneath his fingers. She smelled… nice, girly. A sweet perfume. There were no hard edges, no ripped muscles. Her eyes were not hazel, but brown. He already knew this would be a failure. He forced himself to carry on.

She took off her shirt and he copied her. He was just going through the motions. There was no reaction from within. This was strictly physical. A much-needed experiment. Although her hands traced him with enthusiasm, they didn’t make him feel alive. There was no flutter of butterflies, no strings pulling at his heart with desire.

He put her under him, thinking that, perhaps, if he took control, something else besides his dick would react. She left a love bite on his shoulder. He moaned more out of the memory of a different set of teeth than her.

In seconds, he had her naked. Her boobs were indeed really nice, sensitive, soft. He chose to give her a good time, focus on pleasuring her with his fingers. Once she orgasmed, she pointed at her shorts. A condom was there. Hadn’t she been hopeful?

He didn’t fully undress. He pulled down his jeans and boxers, surprised to see his dick hard. Blessed or cursed hormones, he wasn’t sure at the moment. He gloved up and looked at her for a moment. Her eyes were full of lust, her skin was pinked. He’d left a hickey on one of her breasts. Her legs pulled at him. He slipped in.

The tightness around his dick felt good. But just there. It was an out-of-body experience as if he was looking over his shoulder at himself. He didn’t like it. She hugged him, urging him to move. Her curves molded and shaped around him. He didn’t want this. He hid his face in her neck and pounded away. Just get it over with. Get out all the energy. Get release and go back to work. Soon, he bit into the couch arm with a groan, spilling into the condom.

Afterward, they dressed as if nothing had happened. They worked for another hour with ease. He was calmer. It was easier to focus. No strings attached. Danielle left a kiss at the edge of his lips before he drove home. He took it as a thank you and well done.

The first thing he did when he got home was take a shower. Or three. He bumped his forehead against the wall beneath the water. He felt the need to erase her from his skin.

*

He was afraid the pack would smell it on him at school. However, showering several times proved to be a good idea. They were none the wiser. And Stiles was too ashamed and disgusted with himself to tell them.

The day went on normally. Until lunchtime came around. Danny was telling them about his double score date with the twins when Danielle sat next to him all perky and out of place.

“Hi, guys!” She pecked his cheek. “Congratz on winning your last game. I forgot to tell you yesterday. You were fantastic.”

“Uh,” he blinked at her a couple of times. Did she mean during the game or the hanky-panky? “Thank you? Um, is something wrong with the project?”

“No, silly,” she chuckled and slapped his arm. “I just wanted to congratulate you. See you tonight?”

“Tonight?” he frowned. “I have lacrosse and then an interview with Scott’s boss. Weren’t we meeting tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I thought we could work on it tonight too. Like yesterday,” she blushed and blinked prettily up at him. Had his heart not belonged to another, he might have been interested.

“Oh, sorry. I can’t.”

“It’s fine. See you tomorrow, then.” Her hand rubbed his thigh as she stood from the table and turned.

Everyone was staring at him with different levels of emotion in their eyes. Some were stabbing him (Cora), others were worried (Scott and Allison), some looked impressed (Danny and Malia), the others were just shocked.

“What the hell was that?” asked Isaac.

“Um…” he scratched his ear and sighed. He couldn’t even conjure up a lie for them; they’d hear it. “I may or may not have fucked her yesterday.”

Lydia pinned him with her soul seeking green eyes. “Did it work?”

He slumped. “Not even close. Sure, I got rid of some excess energy and was able to focus. But… I wanted to puke the whole time, even as I came.” He rubbed his face. Scott and Jackson were grossed out. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that and that it didn’t happen?”

“She doesn’t seem like she’ll forget anytime soon,” pointed out Kira. He groaned and let his head fall on the table. He would have to talk to her and that would be awful. What happened to just sex and on board the same train?


	15. Chapter 15

# 15

Stiles meant to talk to Danielle during the week. Except he didn’t. They’d had to work on their project, doing several versions and trying to make shapes. From needles and stars to panda rock candy.

Between that and lacrosse, he’d force it out of his head. Although he couldn’t hide from it when in spark training with Deaton the bulbs exploded one after another. Wind practice was not going smoothly. He felt stupidly guilty. Not for pulling her along, but because he knew in his heart, he’d hate every minute of it and still did it. He'd betrayed himself and his anchor. And it was showing.

At least it was Friday and the project would end. They were one of the first. In their presentation, they dared their classmates to differentiate between the edible and plain crystal by sight. Only Lydia could. Even Harris crumbled under their perfect resemblance.

He high-fived her and received a hug. He patted her back awkwardly, avoiding Lydia’s knowing eyes. Sighing, he went back to his seat. He would straighten it up today, before lacrosse, before his first full moon barbeque with the pack. Except lacrosse was canceled. Danielle waited for him at the school’s entrance.

“Hi, give me a ride home? We should celebrate our A.” She plastered herself to his front. This was the most audacious she’d been in public. He tried to push her back gently. She wasn’t budging. He could see in the corner of his eyes his friends approaching.

“Look. What happened, happened,” he gesticulated, still trying to create distance between them. “And it was good,” he lied.

“Really good,” she all but purred. He opened his mouth, but she pulled him by the neck and kissed him.

He hmphed. It was easier this time to grab her waist and move her back. “I’m taken!” he blurted.

“But you don’t have a girlfriend,” she frowned.

He cleared his throat. “The thing is I have a crush on someone and, well, that’s not fair to you.”

“I don’t mind,” she grinned prettily, thinking herself to have won and capable to make him swoon for her.

“But I do. So, it won’t happen again. Sorry.” He fled to his car. He was a coward, he was aware. At least it was dealt with. He put her out of his mind. Scott patted him on the back. When Allison joined them, they headed to the Hale’s.

To say he was nervous was an understatement. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Scott and Isaac had explained it would be like a party and a side-game of hide-and-seek in the woods with everyone wolfed out. No biggie. Just a barbeque.

Allison went in to talk with Talia for the better part of two hours. When they came out, both of them were smiling. Relief flooded the pack. Allison stayed, happy to have created an alliance with the pack.

Out in the open, he felt charged and ready to strike. Deaton had warned he’d be more sensitive and in tune with natural energy. He could also feel the wolves vibrating underneath as if they were trapped by their human shapes until the alpha gave the go-ahead to run wild and free. Their excitement resonated with his energy, pulsing to be freed.

Someone sniffed the back of his head. “Our pretty spark got himself a girlfriend. Her perfume is nauseating.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he frowned, painfully aware Derek was a table away, pilling up on burgers.

“Then who’s the female’s scent? Her arousal stinks from miles away.”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “Lab partner. Science project.”

“Then why do you smell embarrassed?”

“Maybe because you’re asking creepy questions,” Derek was suddenly there, glaring at his uncle.

“Justified when a stranger’s scent has poured itself all over our newest member. Forgive me for being cautious.”

Cora planted a burger in Stiles’ mouth to shut up his future complaints before she and Isaac rubbed themselves all over him. Several minutes later, she spoke. “There. All gone. Happy, uncle?”

Peter shrugged and went to bother someone else. The thunderous look was also gone from Derek’s eyes.

“Did you take care of it?” asked the angelic wolf. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. He’d been there. What was his angle? Cora purposefully looked away.

“Take care of what?” Derek bit into his second burger.

“Nothing,” Stiles flailed. Three different eyebrows judged him. Right, living lie detectors. “Someone got the wrong idea, that’s all,” he physically waved the matter away. “It’s gonna be fine now.” Time to change the subject. “Will you run full wolf tonight?” He’d been daydreaming about seeing his wolf again.

“Always,” his grin showed a little fang. Stiles was mesmerized. So far, he’d only seen two werewolves shifted. He couldn’t wait to see Derek’s.

Cora rolled her eyes. “Show off.”

Derek made a point of sniffing the air around her. “Is that jealousy I smell?” She pushed him and, therefore ensued a shoving war. Stiles was left out of it by holding on to their food. Soon most wolves joined in, the rowdy bunch.

Talia howled for their attention. The moon was at its highest point. Stiles felt it in his bones. She was only wearing a silk robe. Soon all those intending to run faced the woods. Allison came to stand next to Stiles, with Scott on her other side. Lydia had switched her thin high-heels for sturdy, fashionable knee-high leather boots.

The sheriff patted Stiles’ back and went to sit with the older humans at the tables. Melissa was there too. Talia walked among them, rubbing her scent on her packmates. Once she stood in front of all, she let the robe fall. Stiles didn’t have time to avert his eyes, but he only saw a flash of skin and a second later there was a mighty brown-furred wolf. Her red eyes looked back at them.

There were growls all around. The pack was shifting. He saw Scott’s hair grow, Cora’s claws came out, Isaac’s eyes glowed gold, Kira’s translucid tails appeared, Parrish’s skin was engulfed in tamed flames. Already shifted, Peter went to stand next to his sister and patted her head. Laura gripped the back of her uncle’s neck with a clawed hand and too petted her mother. Then another wolf joined them. A black wolf. Derek. He rubbed his snout on his alpha and mother.

Talia let out another howl and dashed into the woods. Howls echoed one after another as the pack followed their alpha. Stiles grabbed Allison’s and Lydia’s hands, tipped back his head, and hollered. Then he pulled them along as he ran ahead. They laughed, followed, and let out their shouts of delight.

After crossing the tree line, he had to let go of them. They had different speeds. Lydia was surprisingly fast, while Allison was a ninja huntress in her habitat. He saw them disappear in different directions.

Stiles closed his eyes, trusting his feet and nature to keep him upright, and inhaled deeply. He loved the smell of these woods. They poured life into him. He could feel the pack moving between the trees, sense their quiet and swift steps. Each brush of the leaves against their skin was a touch of his hands. He’d become one with the woods.

He opened his eyes and crossed into the clearing. He was once again in front of the stump. The Nemeton, Deaton had called it. He smiled. A breeze grazed his hair, and he knew it was his own doing. He caressed the stump’s surface, tracing softly its circles. The proof of how old it was. He kissed it gently. When he looked up at the bright moon, he felt the phantom touch of three hands on his back. He thanked the Goddesses for everything.

He jogged back into the woods. The pack was on their way back, he might as well join them. Suddenly, he was aware of eyes on him. A month and a half ago he’d been scared shitless. Now, he smirked. He knew who it was.

The figure launched at him. Stiles turned and received an armful of a wolf. The weight and impulse sent them to the grass floor. They rolled until the wolf came out on top.

“Fine, you win, big guy.” Stiles laughed at the proud way his snout was raised. His ears perked; his eyes flashed blue. Stiles was subjected to a sniffing attack.

“Your nose is cold, dude,” he said in between more laughs, trying to push him away. “And wet.” It tickled him. The wolf prevailed. His snout traced his whole face, steadily making its way to his neck. There, he used his long wolf tongue and licked him. First his neck, then half of his face.

“Urgh, gross,” he complained still giggling. But the shiver that went through him and the spike in his heartbeat told a different story.

Satisfied, Derwolf moved back and pulled at Stiles’ shirt with his teeth until he was sitting up. He could feel the saliva drying. He grabbed the lower part of his shirt and raised it to clean his face. Derwolf pushed his hand away. Stiles got the message after the second shove.

“Oh, come on, it’s getting sticky!”

Derwolf fake-nipped his hand. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him and gripped his fur. Then, he rose to his knees and rubbed his face on the fur of his neck. It was smooth and smelled earthy, just as he remembered. He grinned for a moment and let go.

“Serves you right, mister,” he tapped his snout and stood. Derwolf lowered his head between his front paws and raised his butt. He looked like a puppy who wanted to play; he was just missing the wagging tail. “Race you back, Sourwolf.”

Stiles took off. The paws behind him made the earth tremble. He knew Derek could easily win. Show-off as he was, he cut in front of him in zig-zag, then circled back to chase his running feet. It forced Stiles to change directions until he was on the right track. Then Derek ran next to him, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. They both broke the tree line at the same time with a jump.

They were the last ones to return. All eyes were on them. Erica was piggybacking Boyd. Jackson nuzzled Lydia’s neck from behind her. Isaac had an arm draped around Cora. Malia carried Kira on her shoulders. Scott held Allison between his arms. Talia, back to human now, scented those near her, next to Peter and Laura.

Derwolf trotted to Erica, who pulled at his ears with her feet, as he passed between Boyd’s legs and stopped in front of his mother. He swiftly shifted and put on the clothes Peter offered. Stiles averted his eyes and went to his friends. They scented his arms on his way to his dad, who gave him a jar of water all to himself. He chugged it down to the last drop.

Cool yourself, he thought. The high was ending. The line between them was drawn again. Derek was his friend, no more. At least, all his pent-up energy had settled within him.

Stiles put down the empty jar and sat on the grass. “Fu! That was fun.” He tilted his head back and let the moonlight wash away the bittersweetness trying to creep in.

“The night’s far from over,” warned Laura before pulling him up by the armpits and dragging him to the lacrosse match been organized.

He lost count of how many and which games were played, or who won. At some point, the grown-ups left with the kids. Still, they played. Once the dark night started to give way to a clear sky, they moved into the living room.

Mattresses and pillows covered the whole floor. Everyone chose a spot. Stiles was left between Scott hugging Allison and Laura held in Parrish’s arms. Sleep was easy to come by in such a safe environment.

*

Stiles was overheated. He pushed away from Scott’s back and turned. His shirt exposed his torso as his face landed on someone’s chest. A hand found its place on his waist, embracing him. He sighed. This was perfect.

Then, he frowned. Laura wasn’t flat. He blearily blinked. His nose was at the tip of a V-neck that showed a tanned, hairy chest. A male chest. He quietly gaped. He’d woken up on this chest before. It was naked at the time. It was Derek’s. A quick lookup proved him right.

The hand on his waist pulled him closer, breath tickled his forehead. He swallowed a groan. Sensitive parts were making contact with Derek’s leg. Sensitive parts were waking up at the friction.

Stiles tried to move away. The hand tightened its grip on him and slid down his abdomen to his hipbones. Derek moved to him, slipping a leg between his. He trembled, _G’s, that felt so good_ , and blushed. He needed to get away asap.

“D-Derek,” he whispered, “you’re squishing me.”

Stiles felt the exact moment Derek woke up. His whole body froze. Stiles was able to wiggle back and sat up. He pulled down his shirt, covering his hard-on. Derek scrubbed his face and sat up too. He eyed Stiles’ lap, then his face. Stiles’ cheeks burned.

“I’m a horny, healthy guy,” he hissed in a whisper, hunching unto himself. “Sue me.”

“I remember,” he grumbled. Stiles shivered at his low, morning voice. Their eyes met for a second, sharing the memory of being together. Stiles looked away first, unconsciously licking his lips. People around them were waking up.

Stiles pinched his leg. “I’m gonna-” he pointed in the general direction of anywhere but here and stood up to make his escape. He skipped limbs to the best of his ability, which wasn’t much at the moment between his arousal, Derek’s everything, and a barely awake brain.

He was almost at the stairs when he stepped on Kira’s fingers. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled. He glanced up. Derek had laid back down with an arm over his eyes. Laura was curling unto his side. It seemed sweet, except by the way her fingers whitened at the bordering on painful strength she held his arm with. Stiles was none the wiser about it.

He went upstairs to the bathroom. There was no way he could relieve himself with all those supernatural ears in the living room. He filled the sink with cold water and submerged his head. He did it again and again until he felt his dick understand the situation and stand the fuck down. No action was coming its way.

When he came out of hiding in the bathroom, everyone was awake and an outing had been planned.

“So, we all meet there, say, seven?” settled Erika.

“Go where?” asked Stiles coming down the stairs.

“Karaoke!” exclaimed Allison excitedly. “I’ll pick you up.”

He shrugged. “Sure. We’re all going?”

“Not me,” grumbled Laura. “I have a shift with Parrish and the sheriff tonight.”

It was already four in the afternoon. They always woke up late the day after the full moon. That gave them three hours to get ready. Sufficient enough for the girls to get dolled up, enough for Stiles to wank it out a bit and then get ready.


	16. Chapter 16

# 16

Scott was already with Allison when she picked him up. They whistled at his outfit. He spun for them. He had skinny denim jeans, white sneakers, and a white t-shirt under an open black-and-red plaid rolled up.

“Someone looks hot,” she complimented as he sat in the backseat.

He winked. “Always.”

“You’re definitely gonna get more than a kiss tonight,” encouraged Scott. Stiles laughed. The sentiment was appreciated, though he wasn’t aiming for that.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Scotty, but I’ll just focus on having fun.”

Although they were the first to arrive at Instant Star Karaoke Bar, the others weren’t far behind. All the youngsters in the pack were there—even Derek. Stiles had to make a double-take. He did not see that one coming. And, of course, he looked incredible. Sinfully tight black jeans, a black V-neck shirt that strained on his pecs, black sneakers, and a light gray leather jacket.

Naturally, he was drawn to him as they waited for the table to be assembled. “I thought you were allergic to fun,” Stiles bumped their shoulders.

“Erika made me come,” he frowned at her. She flipped him off without turning around. Stiles smiled.

“That explains it. Are you going to sing?”

Derek scoffed. “Of course not.”

“Not even if I ask nicely and say pretty please?” Stiles blinked up prettily and pouted.

Derek looked him straight in the eye and said, “No.”

He booed him. “Then what are you going to do all night?”

“Mock all of you,” he said in a ‘duh’ tone.

He rolled his eyes. Typical. “Fine, Mr. Grumpy Pants. Here I thought you _might_ have sung _Barbie girl_ with me.”

Derek looked so affronted it startled a laugh out of Stiles so hard he almost choked on his saliva. Scott had to pat his back to help him recover, and then effectively distracted him from accidentally-on-purpose lingering near Derek. Scott had handed him the song booklet.

As he scrolled through it, Stiles cursed internally. Did every song need to be about either love, sex, or heartbreak? There was no way he’d sing anything remotely like that with Derek present. _Fuck it_ , he thought as he scribbled on a piece of paper and passed it on to the guy in charge of songs.

Not long after his name was called. Apparently, his song was going to get the karaoke night started. So be it. He’d set his mind to have fun and fun he’d have.

Stiles grabbed the mic and smirked at his friends. _I kissed a girl_ by Katy Perry came on but he wasn’t planning on respecting the pronouns. At the first switch to ‘him’, Danny cheered him on. Only once did he stay with ‘her’, because, hey, he also liked the ladies.

When he came back to them, they had ordered three buckets of beer. His eyebrows jumped up in surprise. Thanks to their superfast metabolism, the wolves, kitsune, and coyote would be fine. The humans, banshee, and spark not so much.

Cora shrugged. “Doesn’t mean we don’t like the taste,” she said matter-of-factly. Isaac patted his shoulder wishing him luck surviving the night, if not drunk, at least pretty buzzed.

A glance at Derek chatting with Boyd in an environment where plenty of folks would sing their heartbreak and affection to the four winds convinced him being buzzed would be needed to survive the night. He grabbed his first bottle and popped it with the edge of the table. Or attempted to.

Derek rolled his eyes at him, stretched over the table to take it off his hands, and opened it effortlessly.

“Thanks,” he smiled and drank a couple of big gulps. Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “What? I’m thirsty after that amazing performance.”

“Water works better for that.”

“Not my fault you guys only ordered beer,” Stiles extended his arms in a what-can-you-do way. “Besides,” he came in close as if he were going to share a secret, even looked around for better effect, “you might not know this… but when in a bar… you drink alcohol.” Derek scoffed. Stiles didn’t stop there. The best part was coming. “Seeing you’re a hermit that doesn’t even know that in a karaoke you are required to sing.”

The rest of the pack laughed while Derek himself shoved him back. He chuckled and drank some more.

Stiles was expecting people’s names to be called left and right one after the other. However, this karaoke bar mixed a couple of party songs for the crowd to dance in between. A nice touch to chase away the busted eardrums due to crappy singers or drunk singers hollering at the mic.

Jason Derulo came on with _Swalla_. Stiles whooped. He adored that sensual rhythm. He shared a couple of moves with Danny, danced back-to-back with Allison and Scott. Right across from him Erika was dissuading Derek into dancing. And when she succeeded—because Erika always succeeded—Stiles loved and hated everything right then and there.

Derek danced with enticing fluid movements; movements that reminded Stiles very well of how he’d felt in bed within and against him. Cora had to hit the top of his beer with the bottom of hers to snap him out of it. Instantly, the beer started to foam and overflow.

“Shit,” Stiles proclaimed, gratefully nodding at her, and chugged it down until there was no drop left. He reached for another.

If Derek was going to keep on dancing—and for the look on Erika’s face, he would—Stiles was going to end up drunk quite fast. The cold bitter taste of the beers would be necessary to keep him focused on something else than Derek’s wonderfully illegal sinuous hips.

_The stage_ , he told himself as he pinched his leg _, look at the stage_. Allison and Lydia were on their way there for a duet. _Run the world (girls)_ by Beyoncé. He sang and cheered along with Scott and Jackson.

*

Stiles stopped tracking the songs sung either by random people or the pack. He just sang, danced, failed not to let his eyes stray, and drank every time he caught himself ogling Derek. No biggie.

By the time his name was called out again, he was a little past buzzed and pretty filled with euphoria. Except his name wasn’t called alone.

“Stiles and Derek, Derek and Stiles. You guys still here?” The DJ resummoned them.

Erika and Isaac had to physically push them forward to the stage. Derek glared at him as they stepped up. He just looked down at the mic shoved into his hand by a not-so-innocent Isaac.

“I thought I was clear I don’t sing,” Derek whispered annoyed to him, and grabbed the mic from the blonde she-wolf.

“I didn’t write us down for this,” he peered at the screen and smirked behind his hand. “But someone had the right idea.”

As _Barbie girl_ ’s first notes started, Derek’s glare turned into a death glare. Stiles burst into a fit of giggles, yet managed to reign it in to start singing Barbie’s side. There was no way Derek would want to do the heavy lifting of the song. With so many beers in him, he wouldn’t even try to stop himself from acting out the lyrics.

Stiles wasn’t even sure Derek would sing—if needed, he’d take it upon himself to do voices for both sides—but Derek surprised him when Ken’s part came up.

“Come on, Barbie, let’s go party,” he growled.

Stiles could feel the pack’s giggles up there, so he danced harder just to make this more embarrassing for the Sourwolf. He shook off part of his plaid and rolled his shoulder, pointed at Derek when the male part spoke up, sashayed his hips, and gave little jumps in place. He was having tons of fun but still, the song had to end at some point.

The karaoke version had the finishing dialogue. Stiles was so wrapped in his character, he framed his cheeks, looked into Derek’s eyes, and awed his final line.

“Oh, I love you, Ken!”

It wasn’t until Derek’s astonished eyes quickly looked down to Stiles’ chest and up that he realized what he’d said. And the lack of blip in his heartbeat.

Under the applause, cheers, and Miley Cyrus’ _Party in the USA_ , Stiles fumbled to return the mic to its stand. His skittery fingers didn’t help speed things along. Eventually, he was mic free, jumping down the stage, and making a beeline for the beers back at their table.

Derek’s arm stopped him from going too far. He failed to say something a couple of times, sighed, and settled on, “Let’s not do that again, ok?”

Stiles knew— _he knew_ —Derek meant the singing. However, his exposed heart couldn’t help but remember the conversation that had torn him up in two. The beer wasn’t going to cut it.

“I already told you I didn’t do it.” He forced himself to roll his eyes and recovered his arm from the wolf. “I’m getting a drink. Meet you back at the table.”

He didn’t need to turn around to feel Derek’s confused eyes on the back of his neck as he made his way to the bar. It took him a couple of tries to flag down the bartender.

“Vodka, straight up.”

“ID,” the guy demanded. Stiles scoffed internally and took out his perfectly made fake ID. The guy nodded. “Coming right up.”

He was putting his wallet back into his pocket when he heard his name.

“My, oh my, Stiles, as funny and hot as ever.”

He knew that voice very well, heard it a thousand times in the thrives of passion. To his right was none other than Gabriel, his past fuck buddy, with his messy brown curls, well-built tanned body, and tantalizing green eyes.

“Gabe? The fuck are you doing here, man?” Stiles pulled him in for a shared hug. “I never thought I’d ever see you step outside of New York in this life or the next.”

“I came to visit a cousin. What are you doing here? Beacon Hills is too small to satisfy your sexy everything.” He stroked a finger on Stiles’ chest teasingly.

“I live here now,” he answered as the bartender set down his drink.

“Huh, that _would_ make me come more often to visit my cousin.” The double entendre wasn’t lost on Stiles, nor the lusty look on Gabe’s face. “Shall we do shots as I wait for my cous?”

He chuckled and sipped his vodka. “You are so not swaying me into shots. I have far too many blurry memories thanks to you and shots.”

“Oh, come on. It was all fun and safe.”

“Almost safe,” Stiles corrected. “You almost had us arrested a couple of times for indecency and trespassing.”

“But we weren’t arrested and I kissed it better later,” he licked his lips and stepped closer. Stiles licked his own. Oh, he remembered how those had looked wrapped around his dick after the cop had given them a scare and let them go, crossing them off as horny teens—he hadn’t been wrong. “Come one, one shot. For the good ol’times.”

“Fine. One,” he conceded.

“Sure, hon.” He nodded at the bartender. “Two shots,” he looked back at Stiles and finished his order, “Tequila.”

Stiles groaned. “Oh, fuck me, really? Why tequila? You know I can’t handle it.”

“Oh, I know exactly what it does to you. Can’t blame me for wanting it when you used to give it to me so good afterward.”

Stiles gulped down. Tequila had always brought out his inner domineering slut. Gabe did love it when he got a little rough and demanding. As in his drinks as he was, and now mixing, it wouldn’t take too much to push him in that direction. Hopefully, not the one-shot.

Gabe gave him his shot and intertwined their arms. “For amazing nights gone and many to come. Bottom’s up.” They clinked their glasses and knocked them back.

It burned down Stiles’ throat. He hadn’t left the glass on the bar yet when Gabe was already shaking his head and making him laugh out loud. He then hung onto his neck and smiled with his whole body into him. Out of familiarity, Stiles held his waist and stared into his eyes.

Someone cleared their throat next to them. Gabe turned first. “Hey, cous, all set?” Stiles turned to look and bit his tongue. “This is-”

“My candy man,” stated the one and only Danielle. Another ex-fuck and related to his two-year ex fuck. Fuck. He downed most of his vodka.

“ _Your_ candyman?” Gabe frowned. “This is _my_ candy man. Wait,” he turned back to Stiles. “You’re both our candyman?”

“In my defense, I had no idea you guys were related—or even knew each other.”

“Huh,” Gabe patted his cheek. “No biggie but this does require another shot.” Without letting go of him, he turned to the bar, placed her in front of Stiles, and asked for another round of Tequila shots for the three of them.

“Woah, I said one, and I already had one, man. Do you wanna kill me or something?”

“You kinda owe us this one, babe. Fucked us so good and then left us. That’s just bad manners,” he tutted. Stiles felt himself flush.

Danielle pushed the shot into his hand this time around. Gabe clanked the top of his glass. Stiles groaned. Now he couldn’t just abandon it or bad luck would ensue. He gobbled it in one go and felt it go up to his nose and deep into his brain. Yup, this one was going to do him in.

“I wouldn’t mind a little retribution, of course,” he heard Gabe say behind him as if underwater. “One last hooray, if you know what I mean.” And Stiles knew what he meant as he was embraced and a hard outline appeared against his backside. “Me, you…” Gabe then pulled Danielle until her breasts squished nicely against him. “And her.”

Suddenly, the room became a hundred degrees hotter. Not only was he being propositioned a threesome—a must to score among all— but he was painfully aware his pack was able to listen to all this.

“What say you, babe?” Gabe purred and licked his ear lobe. One of his weak points. He almost immediately buckled, but Danielle’s cleavage was right there supporting him.

Soft in the front, hard in the back. Him in between. To fuck and be fucked at the same time. Her hands toyed with his neckline and Gabe’s wandered down to tease the edge of his dick while they waited for his answer.

“Wait, you’re not seeing anyone, right?” Gabe asked when he remained quiet as a new person stepped up to sing _Call me maybe_. He shook his head but she answered for him anyway.

“He has a crush.”

“Are you pursuing it? Is it going somewhere?” His hands had retreated somewhat, awaiting respectfully.

Stiles scoffed once more that night. A question with a sharp reminder. “No.”

Gabe made him turn his head. “Then we’ll make it real good for you,” he mumbled above his lips before kissing him slowly.

The muscle memory of past kisses came floating around his head anticipating what was coming next. The slight swipe of tongue, the wandering hand gripping his ass, the hard shape on his behind twitching and begging for attention.

Gabe pecked him once afterward and turned his head towards Danielle. Her bright mint nails dragged up his neck and grabbed on to his cheeks. Then her lips came. Her cherry chopstick, he recognized ironically. Her kiss was more eager, more forceful, and itching for more.

“Say yes,” Gabe whispered again, this time to his neck, as she let him breathe again.

High on mixed drinks, warm sensations, and pleasing memories, he nodded. “Yeah, fuck it.”

Each held on to one of his arms and escorted him out the door. They were a good meter away from the establishment when Scott chased after him.

“Hey, Stiles, wait up!”

“Is that him? Not bad.” Gabe wondered and let him look back.

“Oh, G’s, no. Ew, no. That dude’s my brother.” He squeezed and shook their hands off. “Give me a sec.” He jogged back to Scott and smiled. “What up, man?”

“Are you sure about this?” He looked concerned. His brow was furrowed in that cute puppy way of his. Stiles frowned back to the pair of cousins awaiting to sex him up as much as he’d let them.

“Sure. Why not. What do I have to lose, Scotty?”

“You didn’t exactly like it when you and Danielle, you know.”

“True, true, true, true, true,” he bobbed his head several times. “But Gabe’s here. And Gabe is a fun sure thing. I know. I’ve done him before. A lot. Like, a lot, Scott. You have no idea how much. And _where_. Two guys in NY can find plenty of places to be little sex deviants. Once, we did it in-”

“Okaaaaay,” Scott’s eyebrows were raised high. “Just how drunk are you?”

“Pffft, barely, put the wolf nose away.”

“Riiight,” Scott crossed his arms. “Try to stand on one foot.”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy, your nose is sneezing.” He tried to take a step back and get some space for a dramatic number four pose. Instead, he stumbled on a speck of dirt. Scott had to stop him from going straight down and bashing his head in. He didn’t make it to one foot. He hadn’t even tried to save himself from the floor. “Fine, maybe, like, a little.”

“Should you go with them like this? You won’t lose control?”

Stiles looked back at the cousins, then at Scott, at the cousins twirling their fingers in a wave, at Scott all brotherly and worried. His shoulders sagged. He sighed.

“I don’t know, probably?” He definitely shouldn’t go. He groaned out loud. “I’ll go tell them no.”

“I’ll wait.”

“No, man, I’ll meet you back in. Your lady awaits you.” Scott grinned goofily, patted him in the shoulder, and went inside. Scott was a slap of reality. The breeze on his face a wake-up call from Lady Misfortune.

“Big brother didn’t give the go-ahead?” Gabe snarked when he reached them.

“Kinda. He’s just looking out for me. I’m not exactly in my right mind. Or senses. Full shzenses. Zenzez? Shenses.”

Gabe grunted and planted him a kiss. “God, I so miss you, but I can see your brother’s point. You’re already wondering how are sounds real. Go.”

Stiles hugged them both. “You guys be good to someone else. But not to each other. Because incest. And that’s a no-no.” Gabe bopped him in the nose and walked away.

“That was him, right? The guy you sang with?” Stiles’ brain stirred up a little at the picture of Derek’s glare in his mind. He nodded. He didn’t dare speak. The wolf had way too keen ears. “I hope he knows what he’s missing,” she pecked his cheek and caressed his arm. “See you at school, Stiles.”

He watched her walk away, meet Gabe at her car, start it up and leave the parking lot with a wave of his hand. He sighed up to the stars with his whole body. If he’d been sober, the idea of accepting would have never crossed his brain. Scott was an amazing best friend.

Just as he thought that, something bit his neck. He hissed and slapped at it. There was nothing in his hand. Weird. He should have felt something other than his skin and sense its approach. Oh, well. All the beers, vodka, and tequila were probably running interference. He shrugged and went in.

_Just friends_ by the Jonas Brothers was in its second chorus on a guy’s decent voice. Stiles slipped in between Scott and Isaac, held on to their necks, and jumped as he yelled the lyrics. Isaac shoved him off.

“Dude, you turned down a threesome?” he hissed gobsmacked.

“Shhhhh,” Stiles pushed his finger onto Isaac’s lips. “First rule of fight club, angel. Just siiiing.”

Scott nudged him to keep on jumping in circles around Allison. She laughed and sang too. As the music changed from lyricless to lyrics, Stiles huffed out laughs slowly calmed down and an itch on his neck replaced it.

An itch that seemed to be spreading from his neck to the tips of his fingers. Not that dissimilar to what his sparky tingles felt. He frowned and shook his head. Was the alcohol making him lose control? He needed to regroup his scattered thoughts and chill for a sec. The loud noises and Rihanna’s beats weren’t helping.

He tapped Scott on the shoulder. “Imma go to the bathroom.”

“Are you going to puke?”

He scrunched up his nose. “No, ew. I’m not that drunk.”

Stiles sidestepped people dancing and even crouched to avoid flailing elbows on his way to the bathroom. When he got there, he entered and closed the door, resting against it for a moment. The music was muffled somewhat but he could feel its vibrations in his bones.

There were three stalls to his left, the same number of sinks to the right, and a full mirror wall. He squeezed his eyes hard for a second, then went to wash his face. Coldwater would help him regain his focus.

He wet his face a couple of times, then his neck. No dice. The itchiness was still there and growing but it no longer felt like sparky tingles. It felt… off. Wrong within himself. As if it—whatever was advancing underneath his skin—didn’t belong there.

He tried to focus on his spark, find it in his center like Deaton told him so many times during training. He usually found it in a heartbeat. It was muted now, sort of fleeing the odd thing cursing his veins.

He stared at himself in the mirror. He was shaking. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. All faucets spat out water suddenly. His control was slipping. His magic felt far away. His skin, numbed. Stiles gripped the counter’s edge. Whatever this shit was, it was trying to take over him.

“Stiles?” Stiles turned his head fast towards the door. Derek was there. The lights were flickering. “Stiles, what’s wrong?” He stalked over to his side; one hand raised about to touch his shoulder.

“Don’t,” he shied away. He didn’t want to pass it on to him if it was remotely possible. “Inside me. Not good.” He started panting.

Derek turned him around anyway. “What can I do? Tell me what’s happening.” By the trembles, the wolf knew this wasn’t alcohol-related. This was otherworldly, serious.

The warmth of his hands slipped through the fabric of his shirts. His touch was grounding. Stiles’ eyes started glowing a faint white. He held on for dear life to Derek’s chest.

“I- don’t know. Just- don’t move.”

Stiles focused on Derek. His proximity, the sensation of his shirt under his hands, the shape of his cheekbones, the hazel whirlpool of his irises. His spark throbbed and Derek’s wolf blue eyes answered.

He could do this. Stiles could kick this motherfucker out of his system. And he would. As long as Derek looked at him, he could do anything. This shit was not going to come anywhere near close this wolf. His wolf. His anchor. Not as long as Stiles drew breath.

He could feel his spark sync with Derek’s strong pulse underneath his fingertips; feel it get stronger, bubbling, and ready to lash out at this fucker. Stiles’ eyes went blindingly white. Some kind of green oozy mist came off him and shattered the mirror behind him.

Derek reacted in a split second. He pulled Stiles close and covered his nape and back from any splinters. None came near them. He gave a quick look around without moving. He couldn’t see any threat but he couldn’t see it before anyway. And with Stiles still shivering between his arms, he wouldn’t let anything pass through him if it dared.

Stiles all but crumbled and sagged against Derek, comfortable in letting the wolf take on his weight. His breaths were still ragged and his whole being still quivered, but he could feel his skin again. Feel his cheeks warm up by Derek’s high body temperature. The tingle came back. The good kind of tingle.

Stiles surrounded Derek’s waist with his arms, hid his face on his shoulder, and sighed. The disturbing itch was gone. He recovered control himself. Time to let go of Derek and leave his sweet embrace. Stiles gripped the wolf’s back a moment, then ordered his hands to release him and moved back whatever little space was between Derek and the counter—not much. Derek’s handsome face was awfully close; his eyes stared deeply into him.

The door opened again. This time it was Isaac. Stiles tried to move further away from Derek, but he didn’t budge.

“We heard a crash. Are you guys okay?”

“Check the perimeter,” Derek answered without looking away from Stiles or his lips. Stiles gulped and blushed. “Now.” After Isaac left, Derek whispered, “Are you ok now?” Stiles couldn’t find his voice as enthralled as he was by Derek’s presence so near and close. He nodded. “Good.”

Stiles had less than a second before the wolf’s lips crashed against his. The touch of Derek was a stash of much needed fresh air and the scorching fire of desire at the same time. He had barely entangled his hands in Derek’s hair when it was over. Hypnotized and in arousing need, Stiles chased after him.

“Wait, sorry. Wait.”

Stiles froze from inside out completely. Oh Goddesses, not again. He instantly let go of him and retreated once more in the slim space between them.

“No, no.” Derek caressed his cheeks softly and made him look at his hazel eyes. “I just need to say something.” He breathed deeply, steeling himself for the moment. “I-I am sorry. For judging you by her standard, by my past mistakes.”

The sour scent of uncurable pain vanished from Stiles’ scent as he straightened. Derek was talking about Kate. If he ever found out what she did to this beautiful wolfman or crossed his path one more time, he’d make sure she stayed dead for good.

“Mostly, I’m sorry it took me so long to realize and accept my- my feelings for you. That it took two humans try and claim you right in my face for me to say enough to myself.” Derek grabbed his hand and placed it above his thunderous heart. “I love you. Can you give me a second chance?”

Stiles inhaled sharply, unbelieving. His heart swelled and was going a mile per second. This was everything. It didn’t erase the hurt he endured, but it cleared the path for a wonderful future.

“You’re such an idiot. Do you even need to ask?” He didn’t give him a chance to register it as he was already reacquainting himself with the man’s lips. A so much needed thing to be done.

He could feel Derek’s smile on his face. It was marvelous. Stiles wrapped his leg behind his thigh and pulled him impossibly closer. Derek complied, gripped his ass, and fully encased him against the counter. After some more heated exchange of kisses, where clothes were starting to feel constrictive, Derek sort of recovered his senses as a splinter bit into his hand.

“Stiles-,” he hmphed. Stiles was trying to rip off his Henley. “We need to- mmm… stop and find whatever- hmp… attacked you.”

“Later,” he panted and bit Derek’s lower lip.

“Stiles,” he said with a little more force and a little less composure.

Stiles groaned. “Urgh, fine. On one condition.” His dilated pupils were very serious and his reddened lips distracting.

“Anything,” Derek promised.

“You have to make it up to me. In every way imaginable.”

When he grinned, his bunny teeth showed. “I can do that.”

“And I mean weeks of sex for all those pent-up weeks you made me wait. “Derek huffed and chuckled but agreed anyway. Stiles grabbed softly his beard and chucked down a wave of anxiety. “And you can’t leave or run away,” he whispered.

Derek nudged his nose with his own. “Why would I? Everything I love is right here.”

Stiles bit his lower lip and smothered a smile. Goddesses, they were going to be so cheesy, they’d even rival Scott and Allison.

“Come on,” Derek patted his butt and helped him off the counter. “They found nothing on the perimeter check. We should have Deaton check you over.”

*

Stiles played with Derek’s fingers all the way to the druid’s official place for his day job: the vet. There was a permanent pink hue on his cheeks. Derek kept looking over at him and smiling for nothing. It made his heart flutter.

They were received by the karaoke party pack with a shower of applause and whistles in the druid’s back room. Derek rolled his eyes, Stiles giggled and received Scott’s high five.

“Stiles, come up to the table,” Deaton instructed. He raised a hand to stop Derek from following him. “Just Stiles, Derek.”

Derek growled in response. Deaton arched an eyebrow as the rest chuckled quietly. Stiles blushed some more and bit down his smile. Derek cleared his throat and crossed his arms.

“Sorry,” he grumbled.

“I understand,” Deaton dismissed it and focused on Stiles. “What happened?”

“Um,” he reigned in the bubbly happiness. “I was outside the bar when I felt something bit me.”

“Where?”

“Back of my neck. Here,” Stiles pointed.

To the naked eye, there was nothing. To the druid’s, there was a minute trace of green not easily confused with one of Stiles’ many moles. He hummed and put on some gloves. He grabbed the thin air on Stiles’ nape and pulled the faint magical imprint of a witch.

“You were targeted by a witch.” Seriousness settled over the room. “A good one as I cannot trace this back to her, but a her she is.”

“I didn’t see anybody when it bit me,” Stiles frowned. “I was alone outside. Why would she attack me?”

“You’ll have to find her and ask her. However, Sparks do tend to attract a lot of attention from other creatures.”

“Great, I’m a magnet for trouble,” his shoulders tensed as he slipped off the table.

“Not all will mean trouble. Some will require help. The pack will keep you very well protected.” He pointed at Derek with his head. “His scent in particular.”

Stiles wanted to ask why Derek’s in particular but a yawn assaulted him and he wobbled forward. Derek dashed to catch him as well as Scott. He suddenly felt extremely tired. He could barely keep his eyes open and Derek’s warm chest was right there.

He hardly heard Deaton explain he must have used all his energy to expulse the witch’s magic and the recommendation not to leave him alone until the witch was caught and interrogated.


	17. Chapter 17

# 17

Something woke him. His name was called but he didn’t know who did the calling. He stirred up and felt the body next to his. Derek’s, his hands reassured before his eyes confirmed it for a fact.

They were in Stiles’ room. In his bed. In nothing but sweats and a shirt. If it had been up to him, they could have forgone clothes altogether. It’d probably been his dad and/or Derek’s need to wait for the legality of his age. He could and would respect that. But once he turned 18, they were not leaving Derek’s bed for a month.

While Stiles caressed Derek’s hair, he heard it again. His name in the whisper of a non-existent wind. He frowned. It called his real name. His mouth suddenly felt dry, parched. He sat up. Derek scowled at the movement.

“Stiles?” he mumbled and opened an eye.

“It’s nothing,” he grinned and pecked him on his forehead. He was so cute when he was sleepy. “I’m going for water.”

“Wait,” he grumbled. “I’m coming with you.”

Stiles smiled all the way down. They had to hold hands for Derek walked with his eyes closed. He had to guide him not to bump into anything. In the kitchen, he let go of him but Derek didn’t like that. He followed him and embraced him from behind, nuzzling his neck.

Stiles drank a full glass and patted Derek’s arms embracing him. A breeze came from the open window. He turned to the kitchen’s back door and opened it. Derek pulled at his hand before he stepped outside. He smiled.

“I just want to feel the woods.” Stiles kissed the back of Derek’s hand and let go.

At once, the breeze became a strong gust. It surrounded him. He saw Derek’s eyes flash blue and then he was alone in front of the Nemeton. He looked around confused.

“Derek?” He called out in a whisper.

Instead of his wolf, a quiet moan responded. Stiles jogged to the other side of the Nemeton. A woman. Bleeding profusely. He knelt by her side. As soon as he touched her arm, he knew it was the witch that targeted him. Yet her feeble energy told him she meant no harm.

Stiles gave her a quick once-over. She had a bullet wound in her abdomen. By the amount of blood, it had pierced something important. She wouldn’t make it. As if feeling his worry, she blinked up to him and gripped his arm with all her remaining strength.

“D-don’t…” Her voice quivered. Blood trailed from the edge of her lips. “D-don’t do… the b-binding sp-spell…”

Her warning was followed by the quiet click of a silent gun’s trigger. A bullet zipped by Stiles’ cheek and exploded into her eye with a booming crash. Her hand dropped. Instant death. All the hairs in his body stood up. A dreadful feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach. He closed her other eye, sent up a hushed prayer to Mother Earth, and turned to face him.

Gerard Argent smiled triumphantly. “Finally, by ourselves, Stiles, my boy.”

“I’m not your boy,” he hissed angrily and stood. The grass stood on attention as well. He took stock of his core, where his spark rested fully charged.

A second set of echoing steps came out from behind Gerard and forced Stiles to look. Kate. He scoffed out a grin. Of course. She was never too far from him. He was going to enjoy putting both of them down, especially her. A flame started to take shape in his palm.

“Well, will you look at that, daddy? He _is_ a witch after all. We were right.” She had a gunshot aimed at him. He squinted. Probably the same one she’d used against Derek. His flame became a well-shaped ball.

“We always are, dear.”

A swift movement in the leaves had them all look to the side. Derek jumped at the Argents with fangs and claws out. Stiles breathed easier for a moment—he’d found him. Then Kate giggled and threw dust at him. His wolf crashed against an abrupt and intangible blue wall. He frowned confused.

“Mountain ash, baby,” Kate twirled her fingers at the roaring wolf. He pounded against the invisible trap. It flared up each time but didn’t break. He was out of the encounter.

“Good,” Gerard praised, then threw a knife at Stiles’ feet. “Pick it up, son.”

Stiles didn’t move. “Again, _not_ your son.” He glanced at Derek—he’d protect his wolf again and however many times where needed. His one fireball became two. “Why would I? I can take you both out.”

Kate pointed her shotgun at the wolf and removed the safety. “Not before I kill him.”

Stiles clenched his teeth. In a split second, his mind expanded with possibilities. He throwing his fireballs at them and Kate shooting twice—Derek not surviving. He blasting them away and both of them shooting at them—neither surviving. On and on scenarios came and went inside his mind. All terrible or precarious. He looked down at the knife and extinguished his fireballs. He picked it up. A tactical knife completely black, even the blade. He twirled it and toyed with it for a moment. All but one.

“What do you want?” he glared and asked. Derek roared louder. His glowing blue eyes had a hint of urgency and ache. He wanted to help Stiles so badly.

“A simple spell,” Gerard smiled as if he’d won. He hadn’t—not yet. “Bind yourself, your magic, to us, Stiles. We’ll be able to do incredible things together. As it was meant to be from the moment your father met your mother.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the mention of his parents. This is what the witch had meant. He peeked at her corpse. Had she been forced under a similar spell? Was this situation the reason his mother fled Beacon Hills, forced to abandon her soulmate? He wasn’t sure what it entailed but he could figure it out from its name. He’d rather die than be at their beck and call.

“How?” he stalled.

“Easy, my boy. A clean-cut across your hand and an oath. Intent is in the words.”

He contemplated the knife once more, peeked at Derek growling. Their leverage. His bleeding fists were already healing. Kate was leering at him, a combination of hate and lust in her eyes. He wanted to gouge out those eyes. He clasped firmly the knife.

“Do you trust me?” he mumbled quietly, sure his wolf would hear it, before placing the knife at his throat. “Let him go,” he demanded.

Gerard glared at him, annoyed he wasn’t just following instructions. “We will,” he conceded. “ _After_ you’ve done the spell.”

Stiles snorted. “And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“We’ll even let you keep it,” Kate purred. Gerard snapped his fingers at her to focus.

“You’re going to this length, dude. Commit a little.” Stiles taunted and drew a drop of blood. Derek’s claws scraped against the barrier and his roar reverberated through the woods.

“You have our word,” the old man promised reluctantly.

“Your word,” he drawled and arched an eyebrow. “Really. Some proof of your honor and _intent_ would be nice.” Gerard stifled a grunt and waved at Kate. She put the safety back on and lowered her weapon. “Now we’re going somewhere.”

Stiles stretched his left arm and shook his right hand as he regripped the knife once before placing it at his open palm. The wind moved with him. He stared at the Argents. “Ready?”

Gerard grinned; his eyes glinted, focused on the moonlight reflecting off the dark blade. Stiles smirked as well. His pounding heart was echoed throughout the advancing thumps in the woods.

“Here I come.”

His eyes glowed white, filled with intent. Filled with his wish to Mother Earth, Grandiose Fate and Lady Misfortune combined. He inhaled deeply, ready to let his spark flow.

Time slowed. He focused on his target. On Gerard. On Kate. On the damned pulse in their damned necks. As he exhaled, the knife slashed through the air. Kate jerked forward, as if by a noose, straight to Derek’s poised claws at the same time the knife landed in Gerard’s throat.

A clawed hand reached out from the darkness of the leaves and finished tearing into Kate’s back. Peter. Another shoved Gerard’s face into the ground, accidentally burrowing the knife deeper. Laura.

In the next heartbeat, he was wrapped in Derek’s arms and swept off his feet. They held on to each other. The wolf was now the one minutely shaking. Stiles hugged him harder. They were both alive. For the first time, wind had beckoned his call and broken the mountain ash line trapping Derek.

“Fuck, Stiles,” he breathed him in. “You fooled me too for a second there.”

“I knew you’d figure it out, though. Sort of.”

“Yeah,” he bumped their foreheads. “Because I do trust you.” He kissed the grin right off Stiles’ lips.

“Finally,” interrupted Peter with an eye roll while Laura howled. More running feet were approaching now. Other howls joined Laura’s.

“Shut up, uncle,” growled Derek with pink ears. Stiles found it adorable.

Moments later, the pack broke the tree line into the clearing. Talia shifted back the second she laid eyes on them; the others followed her example. She quickly took stock of their wellbeing.

“What happened?”

“The witch summoned me. Gerard and Kate tried to bind me to them. Failed. We retaliated,” Stiles gave the short version and shrugged.

The alpha hummed and walked towards the Argents. She gave a disdainful glance at Kate’s body and focused on Gerard. At her nod, Laura turned the old man on his back with a tad of extra force. He coughed up blood. The embedded knife was keeping him alive, barely.

“We found ourselves again at an unfortunate situation, Gerard, but it does seem this time you’ve fared worse.” She hummed and touched the knife’s hilt. “How terrible.”

“Bi-bite m-me,” he croaked. His eyes were full of terror and contempt. She laughed. A real genuine laugh finished with an accidental pig-snort. Now he knew where Cora had gotten it from.

“Oh, my, excuse me for that. I hadn’t heard a good joke in a while. The grand hunter pleading to become that which he hunts,” she ridiculed. Her eyes glowed red. “What do you say, Stiles? What does Fate dictate?” Her claws circled the knife.

Stiles hummed and sauntered hand-in-hand with Derek to her side. They looked down on Gerard. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes glowing slightly at the old creepy man. His possible future pathways expanded within his mind. Different ramifications, all terrible, but the same outcome. He grinned.

“What no one can escape. Death,” he sentenced.

*

Back at the Hale house, the humans and banshee of the pack waited. The sheriff embraced his son while Talia made a phone call to the Argents requesting a formal meeting.

Stiles was glad he wouldn’t be the one to tell Allison he was the reason her aunt and grandfather were now dead. At least not right away. She was his cousin. He would have to explain himself to her at one point or another if they were meant to remain family and friends above all. He was so not looking forward to that.

With a disapproving look that matched Derek’s and his dad’s, Melissa patched up his self-inflicted mini wound on his neck. It had been a tiny cut. Nothing life-threatening.

“It worked though,” he mumbled through his pout and sagged shoulders. Jackson and Isaac were barely containing their laughter but Stile saw clearly through them.

“Oh, calm down. He’s fine,” Peter rolled his eyes. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

“That’s the worrying thought,” deadpanned Cora.

Melissa finished her treatment with a slap to the back of his head. A silent warning to not do it again. With difficulty, he reigned in the explanation of his actions. It was worth it—the bitch-that-should-remain-in-a-ditch and her father were out of their lives for good.


	18. Chapter 18

# 18

Allison had taken it hard—like two-weeks-not-speaking-to-Stiles hard. Chris and Victoria had received the news better; after all, they’d been hunters for most of their lives. Death by a werewolf or another supernatural creature was to be expected.

It wasn’t hard to wait out those weeks though. Not with Derek taking him out to the movies-and-dinner, proper cheesy dates, and kissing him until he lost his senses at his front door. Two wonderful yet frustrating weeks filled with scorching hot make-out sessions that ended up with Stiles, alone in his room, jerking furiously.

But, alas, it was finally Sunday, April, 7th. Why that was so amazingly good? His birthday was the next day. And, therefore, today would be his birthday party. And, at midnight, Derek was going to be his come rain or shine.

School would not be skipped, per his father’s request, but sleep was not necessary to survive a school day. All night long he’d exploit finally being of age.

*

Pancakes and the party itself were a bit of a blur in his brain. He could only focus on one thing, one being—Derek. Although he joked with Scott, played with Cora, wrestled with Isaac, and ate to the point of exploding during his party at the lake, he was hyperacute of where Derek was at all times. Whether he was chatting with Erika or swimming next to him, he was Stiles’ center of attention.

At last, the sun went away and people started saying goodbye. Stiles offered to help pick up everything but he was shooed away by Laura—Derek was shooed by Boyd, of all people.

Derek hugged Stiles by the shoulders and cleared his throat. “Give me a ride back to the loft?” There was a pinkish tone to his cheeks and perfectly clear intent in his hazel eyes.

Stiles licked his lips. “Sure.”

The drive to the loft was oddly calm. Stiles thought he’d feel nervous or jittery. Instead, it felt right. As if driving back to Derek’s were a normal thing to do after an event. As if they were going home. Together.

They held hands as they climbed up the stairs.

“Which movie do you wanna watch?” Stiles asked when he crossed the door and took off his shoes. They had to kill three hours before any long-awaited fun hanky-panky could happen.

When Derek didn’t answer immediately, he turned around only to receive his lips as a response. He indulged gladly and intertwined his fingers in his soft dark hair. Derek pushed their foreheads together.

“I’ve been waiting all day to do that,” he panted. Stiles grinned with blushed cheeks.

“You could have just kissed me, you know? I don’t mind.”

Derek shook his head, pecked him, and directed them to the couch. “Erika’s and Laura’s commentary would have been insufferable.”

“Pretty sure they still made comments,” he giggled and put a movie at random. Didn’t matter what it was. They’d probably not even watch it.

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes and held him close to mumble at his hair. “But I’d rather not be interrupted when I’m kissing you.”

Stiles turned slightly to him and smiled at him. “You’ll have to eventually get used to it for, when, um,” he started toying with Derek’s fingers and shrugged, “you know, we officially become, like, boyfriends or a thing in front of the pack.”

Derek hummed, settled his hands on Stiles’ waist, and sat him on top of him, so Stiles was now straddling him. His eyes were wide, his heart pulsed with anticipation. They weren’t even going to pretend to watch the movie.

“We are boyfriends. They already know that.” Derek kissed his hands and intertwined their fingers before rising to whisper across his lips, “But I still want you all to myself.”

Stiles wouldn’t ever resist the soft caress of his wolf’s lips. One kiss became a second, a third, a handful of shirts, a slow cadence of Stiles encroaching closer and closer to Derek until his hard dick was under his ass.

The sweetness of their kissing started to burn higher, lighting a fire within them.

“Off,” Stiles demanded panting and gripping Derek’s shirt. His pupils were full-blown, eager for the clock to strike midnight already.

“Still got an hour to go,” Derek licked his lips, entranced by Stiles’ weight on him and the slight relief it gave to his dick.

“We’ve been shirtless all day. There’s nothing bad with two guys being shirtless together in their home. It’s perfectly normal, especially if it’s hot.” He winked and laughed. “Pun intended, but I meant like a hot day or night.”

Derek didn’t resist the argument. Stiles’ reasons sounded quite legit. He shook his off in a swift movement. Stiles shed his first plaid layer. Derek stopped him from removing his black shirt. Stiles’ cocked his head to the side, confused.

“I’m not sure I’d be able to resist if you take it off,” the wolf confessed.

Stiles’ eyes twinkled with mischief. “Well, then let’s make the wait all the more exciting.” He took Derek’s face between his hands and kissed him at length. Then, taking full advantage of the naked skin, Stiles stroked down Derek’s neck to his shoulders and his arms until he reached his wrists. He took them and placed them on the back of the couch, extending his arms. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

Stiles sat back, resting more on Derek’s dick. The wolf swallowed a groan. By the look in his eye, Derek knew Stiles would test his control. He glanced at the clock. He needed to endure for 34 minutes.

It was easy at first. Stiles didn’t do much but trace his skin with a light-feather touch as he appreciated the wolf’s beautiful physique. Toying with the edge of Derek’s jeans, teasing at his abs, only made the wolf shift the tiniest bit.

Time to switch tactics. Stiles passed his fingers over his own lips, baring his neck to Derek, and outlined it for the wolf. His eyes flashed. Stiles smirked. He flirted with his shirt’s collar, pulling it down for a moment and exposing his clavicles. Stiles rubbed his hands all over his chest, slowly going downwards to grip the edge of his shirt. Derek’s eyes were hypnotized by his hands.

Little by little, he lifted his shirt. Derek gripped the couch with all his might the more skin was revealed to him in a tantalizing rhythm that could have rivaled a snail’s slowness. He started breathing heavily by the time Stiles’ nipples were exposed. He couldn’t handle it. He closed his eyes firmly.

Suddenly, the tip of Stiles’ finger was underneath his chin, and his breath was above his lips. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t look away, Sourwolf.”

Derek whined low in his throat but complied. Stiles bit his lower lip as a reward. The wolf’s claws came out and dug into the couch’s leather. Stiles stared at them, fascinated.

He caressed Derek’s hair before sitting back a little and keep teasing them both. He then traced the same path at the same slow pace as when he had a shirt on. Derek ripped the couch some more when he stopped to give love to his own nipples. He wanted so bad to be the one touching.

After playing with the edge of his jeans, Stiles came back close to sort of touch-not-touch the skin of Derek’s shoulder and neck with his nose. Derek relished in his scent so heated and aroused. He almost dared to lick but that’d have broken his resolve. He glanced at the clock and almost stopped breathing. Ten seconds.

Seconds.

Seconds before he could taste and touch to his heart’s content.

Seconds before Derek could truly claim Stiles as his.

As Stiles left an almost kiss on his shoulder, the clock stroke midnight. Instantly, Derek embraced him and placed Stiles underneath him on the couch. The sudden shift in positions left Stiles dizzy for a second, yet a nice pair of hungry lips starting to devour him helped the recovery.

He felt giddy and horny as Derek moved his hands across Stiles’ chest, in urgent need to touch everywhere at once. Stiles’ gasped a laugh against Derek’s lips as he pinched his nipples, then moaned when Derek ground down on both their dicks encased still by jeans.

Derek coached another moan out of him as he sucked his neck while he unbuttoned their denim. Frustrated he couldn’t take them off without stepping back, Derek ripped them off.

“Hey!” Stiles laughed. “I liked those!”

“You have others,” he muttered and licked the new hickey, making him shiver and break out goosebumps all over.

He then started kissing lower and lower, making his way to his nipples and abs with trails of fiery love, as one of his hands entered his boxers, grabbed his ass for a second, and kept pulling them down just enough to let Stiles’ dick sprang free.

Derek glanced up at him. Stiles stared transfixed as Derek engulfed his dick in one confident motion. He moaned out loud. He wouldn’t last long with Derek’s feverish speed nor his horniness being maxed out. Right when he toyed at his back entrance, Stiles came with a scream.

“Serves you right,” Derek grumbled over his lips.

Stiles panted a laugh. “Do please punish me with blowjobs anytime you want.”

Derek grinned at him and carried him. Stiles surrounded him with both arms and legs—and boxers hanging on for dear life. Derek took them to the bedroom. He grabbed the lube before setting him down on the bed and pulling Stiles’ boxers completely off.

Stiles got on his knees and made grabby hands at Derek’s insulting boxers still on. Kissing the wolf’s abs, he pushed them down and finally feasted his eyes on his endowed cock.

However, before he could wrap his starved lips on him, Derek pulled him up, kissed him fast and hard, and turned him around.

“Hey, I want to eat your dick,” he complained and pouted.

Derek caressed his back, reacquainted with the constellation of his moles. “And you will. But first…” He massaged his butt cheeks. “It’s been too long since I ate your ass.” His smile was feral.

At the hint of tongue, Stiles was already throwing his head back and moaning. He was truly a fan of being rimmed now thanks to Derek. The wolfman would have no problem living up to the needs it would now forever ensue sex-wise.

Derek combined licking and prodding with his fingers until his saliva allowed his pinkie to enter. Stiles panted and whimpered. He was so turned on and hard again. He didn’t want to come unless Derek’s dick was inside of him but the man was taking his damned sweet time.

“Derek, faster,” he demanded shakily. Derek kissed his tailbone and continued the slow ministrations of opening him up. At least, there was lube included and mostly fingering—though with his tongue still teased.

Stiles whined and moaned. His arms could barely support him up anymore. Derek was up to four fingers. He needed Derek’s cock and he needed it now.

“Der-”

Fast as lightning, Derek flipped him over and hovered over him. He let his weight settle comfortably over Stiles and kissed him slowly as he positioned himself at Stiles’ prepped entrance.

Derek entered him slowly but surely without backing out. Stiles’ moan was drawn out and extended. This feeling of completeness, of fullness, of being filled by Derek and only Derek. This was home. His mind went completely blank as if he’d orgasmed—except it was an orgasm for his soul. He was still raging a hard-on.

He refocused on the present and their sweaty bodies as Derek started undulating his hips into him, thrusting equally slow, and low-key growled into his throat.

“Derek, please, go faster, please, please,” he begged, scratched at his back even, but the wolf ignored the plea. He kissed the desperate moans and increased the tiniest bit the strength behind his thrust.

“I want to take my time,” he panted and bit Stiles’ lower lip,

Stiles whined and gripped his hair. “We have all night and forever after. Please, Der, please.”

“Shhh,” he soothed with a longing kiss and hit the hidden magic spot of bliss within him. He keened.

The build-up was excruciating and delicious and oh, so gentle. Stiles clung to him with everything he had in him. Each slow thrust was accurate, loving, and delightful. He started seeing blue-and-hazel-colored stars and fireworks long before the allusion of any orgasm arrived.

Right at the brink of delusion and obsession with Derek’s everything, he came. Could have sworn even traveled to a new dimension of pleasure. His peak was so high he all but compelled the orgasm out of Derek and forced him to howl.

Derek dropped his weight on him and listened intently to their synched heartbeats going crazy. The room smelled like them, like one, like mate. He smiled and kissed Stiles’ chest until he regained his senses.

Derek kissed him deeply and exited him. He whimpered slightly—not because of pain but because he wanted him to remain inside. Derek kissed his complaints away and went for a washcloth.

Stiles’ eyelids felt heavy and he was definitely thirsty. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted more of Derek, even if they only talked or not all night. He just wanted to lay with him. He wanted him.

Derek came back, cleaned them both, and gave him water. Then, he placed a bowl of fruit next to him and hugged him from behind as they ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the natural feel of skin on skin.

Once Stiles stirred up a little and turned to kiss him, Derek took the bowl away and just looked at him for a moment. Stiles blushed. His eyes were so loving and peaceful. Then his hand strayed down and touched his dick again.

Stiles gasped. “We d-don’t have to,” he said wobbly. He was very sensitive right then and there.

“I know. I want to,” Derek whispered and sucked on his lower lip. “We have so much to cover tonight.”

Stiles giggled and sighed, kinda still high on endorphins, pheromones, and desire. “Tonight? We have so much more than tonight.”

“Yes, but I need to fulfill my promises,” he smirked.

*

Stiles was exhausted at school. Exhausted but over the moon. He sighed over the hundredth time in chemistry. Derek had barely gotten him there on time. And he was guilty for his exhaustion.

He had no idea what Harris was talking about. Lydia couldn’t even gain his attention for a second. He was on a daze, on cloud nine and beyond. Derek had been adamant in fulfilling his promises and fulfilling he did and more.

He had fucked him against the promised wall and went further. He’d been on a mission to fuck him over any and all available pieces of furniture and square meters of the loft’s floor.

To say he was sore was an understatement. Every time he shifted in his seat, he was reminded how good and heavenly Derek’s everything had been, was, and is. And to think, they had a long future of this. Stiles licked his lips. He’d never have enough of him. Of them.

During lacrosse training where he was about to drop dead, Derek joined the girls on the stands. Stiles looked over and smiled at his boyfriend—waving would have required more strength than he had at the moment. As he received a small wave, he thought perhaps Derek too would never have enough of him and them.

“I love you,” he whispered. Derek’s beaming smile was plenty of answer.

He watched him mouth an ‘I love you’ back when Coach thumped him on the head to get him moving again. With refueled energy, Stiles refocused on training—as to not invoke suicides on himself.

Yeah. They’d be okay. More than okay. Nothing would ever keep them apart again.


End file.
